


glory

by banshee_in_the_dark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breast Fucking, Creampie, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Glory Hole, Hand Jobs, Meet-Cute, Multiple Orgasms, Non-Linear Narrative, Oral Sex, Pie In The Sky, Public Blow Jobs, Romance, Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8417470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: The surprisingly emotional tale of two people who meet while one of them has his dick through a hole in the wall.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissMarissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarissa/gifts).



> A big thanks to Sarah, who is a good friend and was a big help getting this ready for posting.
> 
> Dedicated to Marissa. This is all your fault.

“You are so fucking beautiful.”

The movie they neither finished nor bothered to turn off in their haste to reach her bedroom provides faint background noise to the symphony of moans and wet kisses they’re creating, his words just a brief reprieve from their desperate kissing. Their clothes, haphazardly thrown, draw a chaotic line from the kitchen, where it all started, each discarded article a landmark on her floor.

For all its hurried haste, they have been waiting for this moment for a long time. Now, their naked flesh learns the contrast in contact, locked in the starting steps of an intimate dance. On their sides, front to front, hands roaming. His learn the dent of her waist, the heaviness of her breasts, the silky softness of her skin. Hers dig her fingers on his sides, pull his hair, rake her nails along the curve of his ass.

Fluidly, Bellamy guides Clarke on her back and pushes up on his hands, caging her between his arms. He looks down at the stunning vision that is the woman beneath him, kiss-swollen lips and eyes dazed with lust. Gravity at work, his dog tags have landed on her chest, right where the valley between her generous breasts begins. The sight pulls a possessive groan from him, not unwelcome by her, if the way her thighs clamp around him is any indication.

She palms his defined chest, moving up, briefly applying her thumbs to his nipples on her way to his neck. Reaching their final destination, her fingers entwine at his nape, tangling with his thick curls and the ball chain.

“I’m really glad we waited,” she tells him, wetting her lips.

Bellamy smirks, dips his head to kiss her and bushes her tongue with his, aiding its task. “That so?”

Clarke grins and fists the hair at the back of his head, pulling him down and fervently returning his kiss. “Well, I’m happier we aren’t waiting anymore.”

“Good.”

Dropping a last kiss on her willing mouth, Bellamy starts to move down, pressing his nose on the crook of her neck, breathing in that special scent that is only hers and can’t be reproduced by any kind of substance. He kisses down the long column of the neck, stopping at her pulse point to press the flat of his tongue there, revelling in the rapid pace he finds.

He rubs his cheeks over the roundness of one breast first and then the other. He doesn’t produce much facial hair but what little scruff is there gently abrades her delicate skin. Clarke pants under him, rhythmically pulling his hair and pushing her chest up. Bellamy feels her hammering heart when her kisses right over it, knowing it matches his own.

He cups her breasts, squeezing the bountiful globes with care before he tongues one nipple. The tip is stiff and pointed already, a hard nub against his undulating tongue. Clarke moans and melts under him, her harsh breath loud on his ears. Bellamy captures her sensitive nipple in his hot mouth, drawing it in with a languid suck.

Clarke gasps, her chest heaves as she arches closer to him. Bellamy increases the suction, rolling the beaded point with the tip of his tongue, then releases her nipple slowly, trapping it in the clasp of his teeth with a slow drag as it pops out.

“Bellamy!” Clarke whimpers, arching her back and pulling on his hair.

He grins, tasting the beaded sweat pooling at the valley of her breasts with long swipes of his tongue. His big hand is warm and gentle as he cups the breast he just abandoned, massaging slowly as his saliva cools over her nipple. His mouth arrives at her other nipple, treating it in very much the same fashion he did before. He sucks it, trying to engulf as much as the pliant globe of her breast within the warmth of his mouth, flicking the beaded point with his tongue mercilessly while he massages her other breast.

Clarke hooks her legs around his hips, hiking one high up and rocking against him. Bellamy chuckles against her breast before pulling away. He stares at her with a smile in his eyes and clucks his tongue. “Impatient.”

She huffs and rolls her eyes, biting her lip to hide her grin. Her cheeks are blushed and her eyes dance over his face. “Can you blame me?”

Bellamy shakes his head. “It’s our first time together. I’m gonna make it count,” he vows.

Her lips part in a wordless sigh. She raises her head up and kisses him, slow and tender.

He could kiss her for days at a time, relegating coming up for air to the background of his pressing needs, for when her lips touch his, he drinks life from the well of her sweet mouth. But now, he wants to taste another well of hers.

Gently, Bellamy ends the kiss and pushes up on his knees, forcing her legs to fall to the sides, splayed open for him as he towers over her.

Clarke squirms shyly, hands twitching on her sides as if she was tempted to cover herself. But she doesn’t, she visibly fights the urge and relaxes into the mattress, making Bellamy inexplicably humbled and proud of her, of being worthy of her.

He spreads his hands over her inner thighs, feeling her muscles jump and tremble under his long caress towards the back of her knees. He gently applies pressure there, bending her knees and pushing up until they are in line with her waist. Every inch of her pussy is revealed to Bellamy’s view and he lick his lips in anticipation.

His fingers dip into the folds of her sex. “I’ve been waiting for this since I first kissed you.”

**\- Then -**

**November - 2nd Week**

Their eyes meet and hold for so long Bellamy wonders if she can hear his heart drumming in his chest. It’s been a long time since he’s been so completely taken by a woman.

“When can I see you again?” he asks in a soft, deep voice that surprises him in its intensity. He is suddenly very aware of how close they’re standing. Close enough to steal a kiss. This close he can smell her clean, sweet scent. It invades his senses, leaving him helpless to pull away and desirous to hold her close to him, enfold her in his arms and bury his face in her hair to determine the source of her delectable fragrance.

Almost by it’s own volition, his hand rises to cup her cheek. Clarke wets her lips, pupils blown and fixed on his eyes. “Give me your phone.”

Entranced, he digs it out of his pocket and hands it over after unlocking it. He stares at her as she thumbs her number into his contacts and smirks at the camera as she takes a selfie.

“There,” she declares, sliding his phone smoothly into the front pocket of his shirt.

Bellamy leans forward very slowly, giving her ample time to pull away if she wants to. Instead, Clarke tilts her face up and closes her eyes as he lightly presses his lips to hers. He keeps the kiss soft, sweet and feather-light, mindful of the busy street around them. But his heart pounds as if it were trying to break out of his ribs and run away.

**\- Now -**

Clarke arches one eyebrow and gives him a challenging look. “So get on with it then.”

Bellamy licks his lips, easily sliding his fingers over her slit. “I don’t take orders from you.”

He delivers the teasing words with a deliberate slide over her clit, the copious wetness pooled between her legs aiding his path. A soft gasp escapes her and Bellamy grins.

He arranges himself on the bed, laying on his stomach between her legs, supporting his weight on his forearms. His legs dangle over the end of the bed but he pays no mind to that. Clarke’s delectable cunt is right there within kissing distance and that’s all his mind can process.

He dips his head and licks the inside of one thigh and then the other, bathing the soft flesh with his tongue and chasing the elusive taste of her. When he finds it, a trace of something familiar reminding him of the taste of another woman makes warning bells go off in his head. He shakes himself, pushing the memory away and hating himself for letting his mind wander over in that direction. He is with Clarke, the woman he has all but fallen for and who makes his blood boil with desire. Gloria has no place in his life and more importantly, he doesn’t want her.

“Everything okay?”

Clarke’s sweet voice pulls him from his thoughts. The apprehension he detects in her tone makes him feel like a giant asshole.

“Yeah, everything's fine,” he vehemently assures her, and it’s not a lie. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He frames her pussy with his hands, his thumbs gently separating her slick folds and tracing the contours of her inner folds from top to bottom. He wets his lips before burying his face in her pussy. Bellamy’s eyes fall shut with the first real taste of her, and this time it’s all Clarke filling his mind. He devours her with a passion, lapping at the cream gathered at her opening with long sensual strokes. Clarke’s gasps and moans are music to his ears, urging him on. He glances at her and sees her playing with her gorgeous breasts, squeezing and massaging the plentiful globes far more aggressively that he did before, so he files that information for later. If she likes it on the rough side, he can definitely deliver.

He wiggles his tongue deep into her, licking up the trembling walls of her sex. His thumb finds her clit, rubbing slow circles around it, growing in speed as he fucks her with his tongue. Clarke’s whimpers rise in volume and the muscles of her thighs start shaking uncontrollably, a clear sign of her orgasm approaching. Bellamy retreats for a second to blow across her engorged pussy, delighted with the sight of her pink cunt so swollen and wet.

He wraps his lips around her clit, sucking the excited nub and flicks his tongue over it from side to side. He touches the entrance of her cunt with two long fingers, barely pushing the tips in and out. Clarke eagerly chases the touch with her hips, until he finally slides them into her tight sheath. Bellamy groans and Clarke sighs with a little relaxed moan as his fingers settle deep. She is so tight he can feel every bump and crevice within her.

He scissors his fingers while suckling on her clit. When he locates the cluster of nerves about one third into her, he focuses his efforts there, stroking her g-spot with practiced ease. A powerful wail escapes Clarke’s lips, as her body goes taut all over for a long second. Bellamy stares at her, transfixed by her beauty in the throes of passion. He leaves her clit and removes his fingers, thrusting his tongue into her cunt just as the powerful convulsions overtake her, making her body jerk out of control and the walls of her sex clamp around his tongue.

Bellamy groans as he drinks the fresh juices of her cunt, lapping at her so as not to miss a single drop.

As she comes down he kisses up her stomach, dragging his hips against the mattress and delighting in the friction. His dick is hard and ready to fuck her and only years of practice kept him from nearly spending himself onto her sheets while he ate her out. Clarke embraces him when Bellamy settles between her thighs, sighing as he buries his face in her neck again and kisses his favorite spot there.

Clarke bends a knee and finds leverage with her foot, allowing her to buck her hips against him, rubbing her glistening cunt on his cock.

“Condom?” he asks, pushing himself up on his hands and, while it relieves the pressure on her chest, it presses their groins hard against one another, pulling identical sounds of lust from them.

Clarke trails one hand up his chest and to his neck, then fingers the thin ball chain down to where his dog tags dangle over her breasts. She gives him a sultry look. “I thought we agreed they weren’t necessary.”

A primitive feeling takes over Bellamy but he tries to hide it. They did talk about birth control and decided that, since Clarke has an IUD and they’re both clean, as proven by the check ups they both recently had, they could forgo the condoms. But back when they had that conversation a couple of weeks ago, Bellamy hadn’t thought he’d react so strongly to that prospect when it actually came the time to sleep with her. To lose himself inside her, to mark her with his seed, it’s a potent aphrodisiac.

“I know we did. Figured I’d give you a last chance to change your mind,” he explains.

Clarke bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. “I need to feel everything,” she says, punctuating her words by sliding her wet sex against his hard cock.

Their gazes lock and Bellamy nods down at her, brushing a chaste kiss on her lips. There’s no urgency as he starts to push into her, his cock making way within her tight sheath. Her walls stretch to accommodate him and Bellamy sees Clarke wince slightly. He is large and she admittedly hasn’t fucked anything bigger than her favorite dildo in a long time, so he stops halfway and patiently waits as she accommodates him.

It’s a slow and deliciously tortuous process, but at last his cock is seated deeply, the bulbous tip touching the end of her channel. Bellamy pushes up on his hands, changing the angle so as not to hurt her when he starts thrusting. The position also gives him a great view of Clarke’s wonderful breasts wiggling naturally as he slides in and out, making his mouth water. Clarke raises her smoky eyes at him, detecting the dark desire there. She smirks and enticingly plays with her nipples as he slowly fucks into her, crossing her ankles at his back so he won’t go far away.

Bellamy bears down on her with his hips, rocking his cock deep instead of sliding in and out. The change in angle pulls an obscene moan from Clarke. She frowns, in the throes of passion as her cunt clings to his cock. She grips his dog tags and pulls him down by them, demanding a kiss. He delivers, breathing her in, consuming her. His hips snap against her, increasing the pace to match the wild desire pumping in his veins. Clarke receives him with lusty moans and just as he starts to lose control, her cunt clenches tightly around his cock, like a vise, holding him deep as he lets go and comes inside her.

At one point their kiss turned into a strange amalgamation of harsh panting, pulling lips and seeking tongues. It’s the most real kiss he’s ever experienced and, more than this being their first time together, Bellamy feels like she’s the first and only, period. He felt the spark of something amazing, something previously unknown to him, almost from the beginning...  

**\- Then -**

**November - 2nd Week**

“So, what’s your damage?”

Clarke stares at him from across the table, confusion evident in her eyes. Bellamy nervously licks his lips and explains. “We were practically cornered and browbeaten into going out together. That’s an extreme matchmaking technique in my opinion. Bears to reason one or both of us are fucked up.”

She blinks at him then, surprising him, Clarke throws her head back and laughs, revealing the delicate column of her neck. Bellamy’s eyes stray there for a moment before he shakes himself and focuses back on her face. Flushed with mirth, eyes glinting and laughing unrepentantly. She is beautiful.

She plays along. “So you’re assuming I’m the one who is fucked up?”

“Not at all,” Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin. “I know I am. I’ll go first. I only had one serious girlfriend in my whole life. Her name is Gina, she’s great but there were some… incompatibilities. We were casual while I was deployed and we gave it a shot when I got back for good.” He swallows under her patient gaze. “We lasted longer than I thought we would but ultimately decided we worked better off as friends.”

“You call that damage?” Clarke teases him and he surprises himself by choking on a laugh. She ticks of her fingers. “My first boyfriend was my best friend, but I couldn’t say it back when he told me he he loved me so we kind of didn’t speak to each other for a couple of years. Then I dated a girl but it turned out her father had died in my mother’s operating table and she was suing her so that put an end to it. Then I fell for a guy and we were planning to move in together when one day all of a sudden his other girlfriend showed up at his apartment. Finally, my longest relationship, was with a woman who after three years dumped me for her coworker.”

“That sucks,” Bellamy says feelingly. Right then, the waiter comes with their drinks and to take their order. After he’s gone, Bellamy rests his elbows on the table and pushes forward. “I see your terrible dating record and raise you a tragic childhood. Dad was never in the picture, mom promoted me to full-time parent of my newborn baby sister when I was eight while she worked all day. A neighbor filed charges against her for neglecting us so social services took us away and my sister and I went to live with our gun-toting, bible quoting great aunt until a judge deemed my mom capable of taking care of us again.”

Clarke’s mouth opens and closes for a second without making any sound and Bellamy begins to regret everything about this conversation.

“Oh, you think you can beat me,” she says finally. “My dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer when I was fifteen. Instead of telling me they kept it from me and sent me to an exclusive summer art camp. When I got home a friend of my mother’s was waiting for me and took me to the hospital. I barely got there in time to say goodbye.” She swallows thickly. “All the time I was having fun at camp he was just, wasting away. Dying.”

Now it’s Bellamy’s turn to be speechless. Then, because he always hated it when people felt sorry for him and offered their condolences for his mother’s death, he says: “Well at least you were having fun. I was in Afghanistan getting shot at when I found out my mom died, so _there_.”

They stare at each other’s eyes for a moment, dead silent. Then, laughter bubbles up and bursts noisily. People glance their way but they ignore the intrusive looks. Clarke hiccups and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye while Bellamy wheezes and tries to get control of himself.

“We are awful people,” Clarke giggles.

“I don’t know, I think you’re pretty great,” Bellamy replies, impulsively.

Her eyes widen, surprised, and a faint blush colors her cheeks. She glances away, bashful, briefly biting her bottom lip before a little smile curves the corners of her lips.

“You’re pretty great too,” she says softly, right before their food arrives. “All joking aside, I’m really sorry you had to go through all that with your mom.”

Bellamy nods. “Thanks. And, same. Sucks losing a parent at such a young age.”

She smiles a little sadly, but then visibly shakes herself. “So, you get points for the tragic childhood, but I think we can both agree I win the prize for the most disastrous romantic dating record.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

**\- Now -**

Clarke curls against Bellamy with a satisfied sigh, craving the comfort of his solid, warm body in the aftermath of an amazing orgasm. Three months ago she never would’ve thought she’d be here, half in love with a great guy and genuinely happy for the first time in the last couple of years. She owes Marcus a big, fat thank you, though the correlation between her stepfather and the amazing sex she just had is not currently welcome, and frankly freaks her out a little. She doesn’t want to think about her stepfather while she’s basking in post-coital bliss with Bellamy, thank you very much.

Bellamy subtly tickles her side. “I haven’t lost you yet, have I?”

She smiles up at him and adjusts her position. With him flat on his back, she moves from his side and half climbs on top of him, folding her hands over his impressive chest and resting her chin there. “Not a chance,” she assures him.

“Good,” he rasps, cradling the back of her head and massaging her scalp. “We’re just getting started.”

Clarke purrs and feels her eyelids drop, relaxing completely under his touch. Bellamy’s chest rumbles with laughter under her.

She opens her eyes and they automatically land on The Chair, a tower of messy clean laundry perched precariously on it.

“If I’d known this was happening tonight I would’ve tidied up here,” she groans.

“You mean you didn’t plan for me to find your dildo in the dishwasher?” Bellamy asks flatly.

Clarke laughs and shoves him. “That’s what you get when you insist on clearing the dishes even when I explicitly told you not to.”

He brushes her hair from her face. “I don’t know, I’m pretty satisfied with what I got.”

Clarke blushes and glances away. “I know we didn’t set a specific waiting time, but tonight was perfect.”

His eyes gleam in the soft light, face open and honest. “Yeah. It was.”

He attempts to turn her on her side, presumably to start all over again, but Clarke cheekily shakes her head and sits back on her heals. “You’ve had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin. “Okay. Pass me some pillows.”

Clarke reaches for the multitude of throw pillows that decorated her bed before they summarily pushed them aside earlier. She grabs the two largest and a smaller one and passes them to Bellamy who sits back and arranges them between him and the headboard until he’s comfortably propped up.

“All yours,” he declares.

Giddy, Clarke leans over and kisses him on the mouth, briefly, then pulls away when he attempts to deepen the kiss. She licks her lips, chasing his taste, as she straddles his right leg and settles her hands low on his hips.

She didn’t get a chance to explore him while they undressed, and when they made it to the bedroom she was selfishly focused on the delicious, decadent pleasure Bellamy lavished upon her. Now it’s her turn to pamper him and she wants to make sure he feels as irrevocably bound to her as she feels to him.

Clarke gently caresses the sides of his hips, her thumbs softly tracing the marked muscles of his low abdomen. Bellamy is not ‘ripped’ in the way some guys who spent a lot of time at the gym are. His body is not honed with chiseled muscles to achieve a certain aesthetic. But he did play a lot of sports in high school as well as did manual labor before joining the army and then the FBI. His body is solid and strong, impressive in a quiet way that for some reason comforts her.

She palms down the outside of his thighs and then draws them upwards the inside of his splayed thighs. She sees his cock stir and harden under her innocent touch and bites her lip. A low pulse starts to beat at her core and Clarke subtly rocks her hips against his hairy leg.

When she gives his cock her full attention, everything changes.

She notices the freckles first. Towards the base on the shaft, a small constellation. Dark on his tan skin, tiny pinpricks shaped in a familiar pattern.

Shakily, Clarke takes Bellamy’s cock in both hands and gently pulls the foreskin back. Uncircumcised. Same skin tone, same freckles, both uncut.

Holy fucking shit.

Clarke swallows, debating what to do. It’s not like she’s ashamed about what happened that night, and Bellamy would be hypocrite if he was upset to find out that this isn’t exactly the first time his dick has been in proximity to her mouth. They haven’t been together for long but he wouldn’t judge her for what happened when he was a willing participant. Better than anyone, he’d understand.

But if he doesn’t, if he doesn’t want to date the same kind of girl who would suck a stranger in a (controlled, perfectly safe) bathroom, then he’s not the man she wants to fall for.

She needs to know. For better or for worse, she needs to know.

Decision made, Clarke starts to lick his cock, striving to mimic everything she did that night. It isn’t hard, that encounter is branded in her memory and she’s not likely to ever forget it. She’d found the freckles fascinating that night, so that’s where she started. Like then, she licks the spot gently before giving it a soft-lipped kiss.

Bellamy reacts with a groan and his cock swells in her hands. She sneaks a glance at him but his eyes, while dazed with lust, show no recognition.

What if the night wasn’t as memorable to him as it was for her?

Shoving the somber thoughts from her mind, Clarke applies herself to the task, lifting his cock and running her tongue down along the underside towards his large balls. That night, his scent had fogged her senses, so pure and masculine, she felt like she carried it with her afterwards. She’d covered him with her cunt juices and fantasized what it’d be like to suck him after he fucked her. Now, she knows exactly what it’d be like and sharp pleasure spikes through her.

Bellamy’s cock is completely hard when she starts to gently lick his testicles. She jerks him off with her hand and sucks one of his balls into her mouth, licking it with care before releasing it with a wet plop and and repeating the process with the other, back and forth until they’re well and coated with her saliva. When she sticks her tongue out and rests the exposed head of his cock on her wet tongue, moving it from side to side she hears a loud gasp coming from Bellamy. She looks up at him. Recognition flashes in his eyes and Clarke smiles tentatively. The effect is somewhat deterred by the cock in her mouth.

“It’s you.”

**\- Then -**

**Halloween**

“We can definitely arrange it. I know of a handful of men present tonight who would be interested.”

Roan King is a shock to her senses. If he weren’t taken - and despite Raven’s blasé facade, he very much is hers and hers alone - Clarke wouldn’t think it twice before she asked for permission to climb him like a tree.

That’s a thing for Roan apparently. Asking for permission, rules, discipline. At least that’s what Raven tells her. They make quite the striking pair, her in a schoolgirl costume and him wearing an unadorned, opaque black mask and suit that could probably pay for her apartment’s rent for the duration of her lease.

He touches Raven’s elbow. “Why don't you two settle in one of the sitting areas and I'll send the candidates your way?”

“No,” Clarke quickly refuses. “I don't want to meet them,” she explains somewhat awkwardly. “Given the particular scenario I selected, would it be be possible for both parties to remain anonymous?”

Roan gives her an appraising look. “It might. Of course, I would know and so will the monitors.”

“That's fine as long as everything stays confidential.”

“Clarke’s job demands she deals with the media,” Raven interjects. “I explained that discretion is something we all take very seriously here but she's concerned about word getting out.”

“I assure you that will not happen,” Roan says formally. Then, with a little smirk. “However anonymity can be a compelling aphrodisiac, especially for this particular scene, so I think we can work something out.”

Clarke swallows and nods. Her sex feels swollen and slippery. Just talking and thinking about it arouses her, and the anticipation amps up her arousal.

“Do you have any preferences?” Roan asks her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Not really,” Clarke shrugs. Then, “I don't have much of a gag reflex though.”

Roan blinks while Raven chokes on her water, then takes a comprehensive glance around the room, studying the people present. His eyes fix on a spot over Clarke's shoulder. “I know the perfect man.”

Clarke steels herself against the desire to turn around and see the man Roan selected for her. Her curiosity almost gets the best of her but her resolve to maintain this encounter anonymous is stronger.

The fact that they will remain a mystery to each other means, for her, that she doesn’t need to feel any sense of insecurity or embarrassment about the desires she feels coursing through her body. It allows her to be bold and confident. She was in a relationship for a long time and things weren’t great during the last year they were together, after they moved in together and Lexa became close with Costia, her coworker. Even before Lexa, she hadn’t had many casual relationships. So it’s definitely been a while for Clarke and she’s naturally nervous.

Now, she wants to experiment something new and sort of get back out there, get over her nerves and shyness - and this is the perfect setting. The person on the other side of the wall won’t know anything about her, not her name, not even how she looks. There’s no pressure, no expectations, no need for embarrassment. He’ll never even see her face. She has the ultimate power here. She’s not performing for anyone.There’s no judgement. If she unleashes her ravenous desire and sucks that cock like it’s the last source of nourishment and she’s a starving woman; or if she chickens out and decides it’s too much, she’s not ready yet; then she wants that privacy anonymity offers her.

“I’ll go speak to him now. At my signal, enter the restroom. You will find three stalls, use the middle one and stay there. My friend will be there shortly.”

Clarke nods, memorising the instructions as Roan gallantly kisses Raven’s hand and leaves them. She takes a deep cleansing breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves. The few casual hookups she had were a disappointment. As a general rule, she prefers to get to know the person before getting naked. Then, even if the sex is not great, at least they have a strong connection and they can work on it until they get it right. That’s just how she operates.

But not now. This is not about having a connection or moving onto the next stage of a relationship with someone she cares about. This is a whole different beast altogether. And if she’s being honest with herself, the prospect of sucking and tasting her first cock in almost four years is making her pussy so moist her thighs feel sticky.

Roan disappears behind Clarke and Raven follows him with her eyes. “Ooh, good choice Roan. He has excellent taste,” she confides to Clarke, who has to lock every muscle in place to resist the temptation to look. “They’re shaking hands, looks like he accepted… Yep, Roan’s nodding to us. You should get going.”

“Okay,” Clarke nods rapidly, stealing Raven’s bottle of water and drinking in long swallows in an effort to ease her suddenly dry throat. “Okay.”

“I’ll find you after. A couple are doing a special scene, we can watch it together,” her friend promises. Then, surprising her, Raven throws her arms around Clarke and gives her a fierce hug. “Have fun.”

She makes her way to the designated restroom on legs that feel not quite like her own. No one pays her attention as she crosses the room in that direction, nor when she pushes open the door and slips in.

What she finds inside is actually surprising. The fake restroom is very nice, all done in white marble and black tiles. A wall of sinks and a long mirror to her left and to her right the three stalls Roan mentioned.

In front of her the wall is covered in a floor to ceiling mirror, two plush chairs, an end table and a low padded bench disposed around that area. The sedately elegant atmosphere calms her until she notices with a start that the bench and the table both have leather buckles punctuating each leg, which reminds her of the true purpose of this room. She looks away with a nervous giggle and wonders how many people have been strapped to those devices as they were fucked.

Clarke knows why Roan instructed her to take the middle stall when she locks herself in it. Unlike outside, there are no restroom facilities. A tasteful padded bench connects the stall walls, which are clean and unadorned with the exception of the twin holes located at waist high. Instead of sloppily cut and covered with duct tape at the edges like they appear in porn videos, they are rectangular padded slots purposely manufactured for peeping and participating with others.

The way it's built, the person occupying the middle stall can service not one but two cocks if so desired. She knows that won’t be the case tonight and the idea is so wildly beyond anything Clarke has ever fantasized, yet arousal thrums within her.

Clarke sits down on the bench and waits. Five minutes later, just like Roan promised, she hears the restroom door open and close. Steps, soft and calculated, echo as someone crosses the tiled floor. The man stops briefly when he gets to the stalls, selects the one to her left and gets in. Then, she hears a rustling and, curiosity getting the best of her, she sneaks a glance through the gloryhole and sees someone dropping their dark slacks and boxers.

Her breath catches as a cock is pushed through the hole, long and thick while flaccid, it’s her first uncut cock. She can’t imagine what it’ll be like when it’s fully erect. A pair of heavy balls are also pushed through the slot and Clarke’s mouth waters.

Upon closer inspection, she discovers with some surprise a dusting of freckles on the shaft, towards the base. Darker than his tan skin, the freckles are no bigger individually that the head of a pin. Clarke stares at the constellation in a daze, taking in the stunning sight. After long seconds of inactivity, the man on the other side knocks softly on the dividing wall, startling her into action.

She takes his heavy member in both hands and lifts it to her mouth, gently pulling the foreskin back with her fingers and revealing the sensitive head. She can smell his musky scent, detecting traces of soap and clothes softener as well as his own unique scent. Under her perusal, his cock starts to twitch, so she sticks her tongue out and starts to lick it up.

She starts with the freckles, licking that spot gently before placing a soft-lipped kiss. The cock jumps and begins to grow as her tongue works him. Lifting the heavy member with her hands, Clarke runs her tongue along the underside trailing it down to his large balls. The cock stiffens and rises as she gently licks each of his testicles.

Gosh, it’s been so long since she got to enjoy such a beautiful dick. She’d nearly forgotten what a high she got from it. She used to take great pleasure in having all the power, reducing her partner to an incoherent mess as she blew his mind with her impressive oral skills. But this time something different. She has power, yes. She can stop sucking right this second and there’s nothing he can do about it. But to him, to the man on the other side of the wall, she is just an anonymous mouth, here to provide pleasure to him. She is not even a full person to him, just a toy. It should be humiliating and a turnoff but she has steadily grown damp between her legs since the moment she saw his cock offered to her.

Still holding his cock with one hand, Clarke shifts and straddles the padded bench. She hadn’t planned her outfit tonight for easy access but she’s grateful she opted to wear this dress. Raven can make fun of her costume all she wants, but Clarke knows she looks amazing. The red material rides easily up her thighs and bunches around her hips. She looks down, briefly tearing her eyes away from the gorgeous cock in front of her, and sees her thighs spread wide to accommodate the wide bench and a damp spot darkening the lacy white material of her thong.

As she slowly jerks him off, Clarke uses her free hand to pay some much needed attention to her hungry pussy. She pushes her panties to the side and gathers the wetness pooled at her entrance with two fingers, slowly spreading it around her inner folds. She moans softly and hears an answering groan from the other side of the wall, accompanied by a mighty twitch of his cock. It had swelled to full size under her ministrations, so large and heavy her fingers can't fully wrap all the way around the considerable girth.

Clarke releases the cock and it bobs in the air, erect and proud. His balls beckon her, hanging nice and full. She sucks one into her mouth, licking gently before releasing it with a wet plop and and repeating the process with the other. Fitting them both into her mouth is sadly not possible so she just alternates tonguing them, his cock resting on her forehead as she coats them with her saliva.

Meanwhile, she sneaks a finger into her cunt, teasingly thrusting in and out. She stops licking his balls after a few moments and pulls his cock down level with her mouth, then sticks her tongue out and rests the head of his cock on her wet tongue. With her free hand, Clarke moves the tip from side to side, hearing the man on the other side of the wall suck in a harsh breath as she teases him. Clarke knows uncircumcised dicks tend to be a lot more sensitive around the head, so she takes extreme care not to cause him any pain. The cock twitches in her hand as she licks the sensitive underside, taking breaks to carefully pull his foreskin down to cover the head and then gently up once again.

He moans softly and Clarke smiles. She tilts her head back and draws the tip past her lips so it touches the roof of her mouth, hollowing her cheeks whilst licking his sensitive underside. A muffled curse graces her ears. Then, without warning, she widens her jaw to full capacity and starts to feed his cock in, taking as much of it into her mouth as she can. He grunts when his cockhead touches the back of her throat.

Clarke has a practically non existent gag reflex, but it’s still hard having such a big thing in her throat. She wraps her hand around the leftover inches between her lips and the base of his cock and holds his pulsing cock steady while she relaxes her throat, breathing evenly in and out through her nose. She starts to bob her head backwards and forwards, measuring her breaths and trying to push each time it reaches her throat in an effort to take more.

She swirls her tongue around his cock as she retreats, slurping and gulping on him. She takes his balls in one of her hands, rolling and gently squeezing them. They start to move in her hand as she plays with them, drawing up in a telltale indication that he’s close to coming.

Clarke slows down, having no intention of cutting the party short. She kisses his cock chastely, trying to give him the least amount of stimulation while still maintaining contact and listens carefully as on the other side of the wall the man strains to even his breathing until he’s got himself under control. Likewise, Clarke ceases the lazy strokes on her pussy, dropping her hand on her thigh.

She wonders how long she can keep this going, edging him almost to the point of climax before gentling him back from the edge.

An idea strikes her and she raises her hand and smears her wet fingers on his length. She wraps her hand around his hard cock and slowly strokes it. Clarke closes her eyes, leans forward and noses the shaft, smelling herself on him. The heady combination of their scents is intoxicating. This is how he’d smell if he fucked her and then demand she clean his cock, sucking it good.

Lost in the fantasy, she licks him enthusiastically until his dick glistens with her saliva. She wraps her hand around the base of his cock, guiding it into her warm mouth before jerking him in short strokes as she applies gentle suction.

Tired of remaining a passive participant, the man on the other side of the wall drives into her mouth. Clarke bobs her head up and down, meeting his own thrusts, her lips stretched wide to receive him.

They set a furious pace. She rests her sweaty forehead on the cool stall wall and stuffs his cock into her mouth like a starving woman and he repeatedly slams into the back of her throat while Clarke strokes herself between her legs, working her clit frantically and revelling in the glorious assault on her throat.

Forgetting all about her desire to edge him continuously before finally allowing him to come, Clarke licks and sucks in a frenzy, eager to taste his cum. She massages his heavy balls, rolling them between her fingers as they draw up. The man knocks on the dividing wall twice, alerting her that he’s about to reach his orgasm, in case she doesn’t want him to come in her mouth.

She appreciates the courtesy, but no. She wants to taste him so she doubles her efforts, drawing back so his cockhead rests atop her tongue as she thumbs behind his balls at the very base of his cock. With a faint groan, he comes depositing his cum in her mouth. Slurping sounds fill the stall as she drains the cum from his balls and swallows it all down. She moans nonstop, savoring the heady taste of his desire as her own orgasm slams into her.

Dropping her head to the wall beside the gloryhole, Clarke rests there, exhausted and panting. Similar uneven breathing sounds reach her from the other side, then a thud as, she assumes, he collapses on the bench. She smirks, sated and pleased.

They stay like that for she doesn’t know how long, recovering in companionable silence. Oddly, Clarke feels close to the stranger on the stall next to her. Bonded, somehow. She doesn’t know what he looks like, his name, or what his voice even sounds like. And yet none of that matters. It seems inconsequential. She had him in her mouth. His taste is something she won’t forget. His muffled moans and groans mean more to her than words of love.

It’s the oxytocin released by her orgasm. She’s high, basically. Maybe tomorrow she’ll feel shame. Maybe she’ll try to forget, pretend she was never this girl chasing the taste of a stranger’s cum from her lips, her fingers numb from rubbing her clit so hard, who came like a little slut while she sucked on a big cock.

But right now she is this girl. Right now, for that man. For herself.

Shyly, she lifts her hand from her pussy and reaches with it through the gloryhole, offering her drenched fingers to the stranger. He should know she came with him. He should know he gave her so much tonight.

His growl startles her in the stark silence of the restroom. His tongue, warm and wet, traces the outline of her dainty fingers before sucking them into his mouth. He laves them thoroughly, cleaning her juices off them. Clarke’s breathing increases and she’s tempted, oh so tempted to unlatch her door and invite him in.

He finishes by curling his fingers around hers and demurely kissing the back of her hand, like a gentleman in old-fashioned movies.

“Your name, please,” comes his muffled voice, almost undetectable through the blood rushing through her ears. “Any name.”

Clarke swallows, mouth parched and throat a little sore. She looks down at her red dress and then at the tasteful slot on the wall. “Call me Gloria.”

The man laughs lowly but accepts the name without adding anything further. Clarke listens as he puts his clothes back in order and leaves the restroom. Only after a few minutes have passed she gathers the strength to stand up and exit the stall.

The reflection that greets her on the mirror is unrecognizable. Oh, she looks just about the same. Her dress is a little wrinkled and askew and her lips are red and swollen, nothing too telling. But looking at her face, her flushed cheeks and the glint in her eye, Clarke can spot the change. Like a revolution pulsing through her veins. She did something she never thought she would, and she liked it. Hell, she loved it.

She walks to the sink and fixes her clothes methodically, staring at herself in the mirror. She touches her lips. They’re red and swollen and she’ll need to put some product on them when she gets home. Likewise, the skin around her mouth is flushed and throbs dully. She really did have to stretch wide open to suck that cock.

There’s a basket with disposable toothbrushes, toothpaste and mouthwash by the sink. Clarke snickers, thinking how considerate it is of them to anticipate her desire to wash up. She supposes it’s not that strange. This place, club or whatever they call it is nothing like she expected. When Raven told her about it, she half expected it to be a skeevy dive, obscene and vulgar. She’s very glad she was mistaken and even more so that she gave it a shot. Clarke didn’t know places such as this even existed, and maybe they don’t. Maybe this place is unique. It did uniquely change her.

She makes quick use of the complementary toiletries. She even finds concealer and a tube of lip balm in the basket. Once she’s satisfied with how she looks she goes back to the main room.

No one seems to notice her exiting the fake restroom. The lights are dim and Clarke can see that most of the guests are crowded around the opposite end of the room, respectfully watching a scene unfold. She discreetly looks around, wondering if her mystery man is out there, watching her. Arousal spikes anew through her as the idea of him stepping out of the shadows and gathering her in his arms forms in her brain...

**\- Now -**

“It is you, isn’t?”

Bellamy sits up, his heart beating wildly in his chest for a different reason that the amazing blow job he was just receiving. Clarke drops his cock and sits back on her heals, ducks her head so her blonde curls obscure her face. He frowns, wondering why she’s hiding herself from him all of the sudden.

“If you mean the chick that gave you head in a restroom then yeah, it’s me. Gloria,” she snorts.

“Hey,” he reaches for her hands and slowly but determinedly pulls her closer. Not satisfied with her sitting beside him, Bellamy lifts her onto his lap. Clarke is tense against him until he sinks his fingers in her hair and soothingly massages her scalp. He feels her gradually relax as he cradles her against his chest. Keeping up the massage with one hand, he traces her jawline with his index and tilts her chin up to meet his eyes. “Whatever’s going on inside that head of yours, let me be perfectly clear and tell you I’m not ashamed of anything that happened then. That was an amazing night. You were amazing.”

Clarke smiles sheepishly and glances away. He sees her blink, her eyes unusually bright, and he holds her close, tucking her head in the crook of his neck.

“Were you forced in any way? Did you feel pressured to do the scene? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no, none of that. I loved it, actually,” she confesses in a small voice.

“Then what’s the problem?” he smiles tenderly, swiping his thumb under her eye to wipe away a stray tear.

“I just - I don’t usually do that kind of stuff. I don’t want you to think… Not that there’s anything wrong with doing that sort of thing often, I’m judging anyone obviously, I just - I don’t know what I’m trying to say,” she finished with a frustrated groan.

Bellamy chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “Well I for one have been frequenting the club for the past three years so, yeah, it was definitely not my first scene.” He tilts her face up and looks soulfully into her azure eyes. “But it was the most memorable and no, I haven’t visited the club since we started dating.”

She smiles tentatively. “Me neither. I thought about joining after that night but then I met you and suddenly it wasn’t so appealing anymore.”

Bellamy smirks, ideas for the future forming in his brain. “You could still join and we could go from time to time.”

Her pupils dilate and she licks her lips. “Together?”

He nods and takes her mouth in a sweeping kiss, sealing the pact.

“How did you even end up at the Halloween party?” he asks her between teasing kisses. “Those things are usually member only. They only let people interested in joining attend at specific events.”

“A friend of mine is a member and she needed back up that night...”

**\- Then -**

**Halloween**

“Okay, see that girl over there? That’s the style of nipple rings I wanna get. Except my nipples are larger and puffier so I don’t know if I could pull it off. I mean, she has perfect tits, look at her, have you seen nipples so pink and pert? What do you think?”

“I think your breast are great and you should stop staring at that poor girl.”

Raven gives her a side-eyed look. “That poor girl is topless and showing off her bling. She wants us to look at her.”

“You don’t know that.”

Across the room, the girl must feel their gazes upon her, because she searches over the crowd until she locates them. Clarke is prepared to mouth an apology and drag Raven away, but the topless girl surprises her by smiling coyly and winking at them.

“Told ya,” Raven grins. She gives her friend a cursory look. “Who are you supposed be again? I forgot.”   

Clarke rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that to piss me off because you hate my costume.”

“A dress you dug up from your mother’s attic does not a proper costume make.”

“Not all of us can be naughty school girls,” she clucks her tongue, taking in her friend’s racy costume with a cursory look. “Besides, this dress is couture and almost the exact replica worn by an iconic TV villain. It definitely qualifies as a costume.”

Raven snorts. “Iconic, my ass.”

“Plenty of people have taken notice of my costume,” Clarke argues petulantly.

“Because you look hot! Not because they recognize it.”

“Glorificus was a memorable villain. She was a hell-god.”

“Whatever you say, Your Splendiferousness.”     

Clarke sighs tiredly. This is the third version of this conversation they’ve had tonight. “Where is your boyfriend anyway? I thought he’d jump on you the moment we arrived.”

“Roan is not my boyfriend,” Raven denies, shooting her a warning look.

Clarke ignores it. “You’re wearing his buttplug.”

Raven smirks. “I sure am. He’ll be here, trust me. Anticipation is part of the game.”

“Well, soon as he gets here, I’m gone. I don’t know if this is quite my scene.”

Raven folds her arms across her chest and gives her patented ‘oh really’ look. “I’ve seen your secret sex toy drawer, Clarke, I know you have a healthy interest in kink.”

Clarke concedes the statement with a nod and a coy grin. While she and Lexa amassed quite the toy collection during their relationship, they mutually decided to give them away when they broke up. Clarke’s secret sex toy drawer is currently empty. Hell, it's not even a drawer. She has a box, hidden inside another box were her favorite glass dildo, one she bought years ago as a treat for herself, currently resides in a nest of bubble wrap. She was so busy settling into her new place she didn’t even unpack it.

Raven touches her arm. “Look, I know I mentioned this before but it bears saying it again. Everyone here is screened, there are no psychos, no one has a criminal record or STDs. We’re all consenting adults who know what we want and what the fuck we're doing so orgasms are guaranteed. I you want to have a good time, I personally recommend that guy on the left corner. His name is Mark and he has a great tongue. Or if you want to go for the girl with the nipple rings, I’ll ask Roan to introduce you to her Master and hook you up. Just make sure you ask her where she got her nipples pierced.”

“It has been a while…” Clarke concedes, tempted by the idea. She came here strictly as a wingwoman and planned to do nothing but look, but despite that Clarke can’t help the interest humming through her. The further she and her last girlfriend drifted apart the cooler their sex life got. “There is something I miss.”

Raven claps triumphantly. “Let’s go say hi to Mark.”

Clarke chuckles and grips Raven’s elbow, keeping her from going to him. She shakes her head. “I don’t want anyone to go down on me.”

Her friend reels back. “Why the fuck not?”

“I’m just not in the mood for that,” she shrugs.

“If you don’t want someone to go down on you, what do you want then?”

Clarke licks her lips. “A blow job.”

“Yeah?” A little smirk curves Raven’s lips slowly.  

She nods, glances away with a spark of embarrassment igniting inside her. “I haven’t done that in a long time. I can fuck myself with my dildo, but sucking it? Not the same.”

Raven hums. Clarke recognizes the look on her friend’s face, sees the wheels turning in that brilliant brain of hers as she scans over the crowd and around the room. Her fleeting eyes finally land on a spot over Clarke’s shoulder and her lips slowly curl into a huge, frankly scary, grin.

“How adventurous are you feeling, oh Glorious one?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.

Clarke frowns and follows her gaze, confounded when she realizes Raven is staring at a discreetly obscured restroom door. The sign on the swinging door indicates it’s unisex but there’s no line waiting outside. Clarke could swear Raven told her earlier when they arrived to the party that the restrooms were upstairs, but it’s possible she forgot about this one, or hadn’t noticed its existence until now.  

“I’m not following,” Clarke confesses dumbly. “You have to go to the restroom?”

Raven throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, Clarke. That is not a normal restroom.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s designed to facilitate certain fantasies. Glorious fantasies.”

“...Meaning?”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Listen to the words I’m saying and connect the dots.”

Clarke backtracks on their conversation, in an effort to figure out what she means. When it hits her, she gasps. “A glory hole?” she asks in a hushed whisper.

“A classy glory hole,” Raven stresses.

**\- Now -**

Bellamy blinks dumbly, closing the fridge door with his foot. “You’re friends with Raven? Raven Reyes?”

From her perch on the granite breakfast bar, Clarke holds out her hands to catch the box of leftover pizza he balanced in one hand while he holds two bottles of water with the other. When their stomach rumbled in unison while they were talking in her bed, they thought it prudent to continue their conversation over a much needed snack. “You know her?”

“A little, yeah,” Bellamy nods, mind spinning with the new information. The sight of a naked Clarke sitting on the counter and swinging her legs is very distracting also. She’s going to leave a damp spot on the counter, a fact she shrugged off and claimed she’d clean it later. He’d like to clean the mess between her leg right now, but not before she gets some nourishment. In light of the revelation that Clarke and Gloria are one and the same and that she contemplated delving further into the lifestyle before they met, he has a big night planned for them.

A memory tickles his brain and Bellamy snorts as he lifts a slice of cold pizza and takes a large bite.

Clarke opens her water and takes a sip. “What’s so funny?”

“I just remembered the bizarre conversation I had with my friend Roan when I told him I was dating you...”

**\- Then -**

**November - 4th week**

Bellamy paces on Roan’s office. “And you waited this long to tell me Gloria needed special care after the scene? It’s been a month.”

“It was her choice. She didn’t want you to know.”

“I should’ve been there for her,” Bellamy hangs his head, guilt and anger battling inside him. “You should’ve come to me, said something. It was my duty to be there for her.”

“It was her wish you weren’t involved,” Roan says. “But I agree, it was your right. I wouldn’t have agreed to the anonymity clause if I’d known she was a closet submissive. I thought she was a regular vanilla seeking a thrill and that the setting was relatively safe. It was my mistake and one I’ll not make again.”

“Why are you telling me this now? How is she?”

“Raven assures me she’s all right but she has refused to return to the club. I fear the way things ended last time has scared her off the lifestyle. Perhaps if you two meet and give the scene a proper closure, you could correct that.”

Bellamy swallows thickly and nods. “If she agrees to meet, I’d love the chance to make sure she’s fine, but it can’t go any further than that. I’m seeing someone.”

Roan scowls. “Since when?”

“I met her after the Halloween party if that’s what you’re asking. She’s new in town.”

His friend looks a little put upon - was he trying to set him up with Gloria? The people in his life must really think he’s hopeless since they keep trying to play matchmaker with him.

“Well, congratulations,” Roan says finally, a rare though genuine smile ticking up the corners of his lips. “It was about damn time you got serious about someone. When are you bringing her to the club?”

Bellamy huffs. “I just started dating this girl, I can’t just take her to sex club.”

Roan pins him with a hard stare. “Don’t hide that side of yourself for too long. I would hate for you to attach yourself to this girl and then end up in the same situation you found yourself with Gina.”

“That was different,” Bellamy snaps. “I didn’t even know what I wanted back then.”

“And yet it was still clear it wasn’t something she could give you.”

His friend’s blunt words are hard to accept but Bellamy recognizes he has a point. Coming back stateside for good led him to a sexual awakening of some sorts. Even though he was in school and later in the FBI academy, he had a social life, a romantic relationship and most importantly, time. To explore, to figure out what he liked, to delve into his psyche, to experiment. For some of that, Gina was game. When they started to experiment with toys and roleplay, she thought it was fun. But as time passed and Bellamy began to broach the subject of sexual power exchange, she wasn’t so interested. She tried it and didn’t hate it, unlike Bellamy who pretty much felt like he’d been delivered a fundamental truth about himself. He likes control. And Gina, though they read a lot of literature and attended several classes at the club, just wasn’t into it like he was.

It was a hard blow when they called it quits, and Bellamy felt like a dick and to blame for everything. He never crossed a line she set and always respected her wishes, but he wanted more than she could give him and she knew it. He hated, absolutely hated, that he made her feel like she wasn’t enough, and hated himself for not feeling she was.

On the long run he guesses it worked out for the best. She is now happy and planning to marry her girlfriend and he, well, he’s not complaining.

Bellamy licks his lips. “I know it’s a risk, dating Clarke and risking falling for her before I disclose my nature. But, she’s special. I don’t know how to explain it but, I have a really good feeling about her. We just connect, you know?”

“Clarke.” Roan blinks. “Her name is Clarke,” he asks flatly.

“Yeah, and?”

“It’s… an unusual name,” Roan says carefully. “How did you meet?”

“I told you I know Marcus Kane right?”

“The senator, yes.”

“She’s his step daughter and media manager. He set us up.”

Roan inclines his head, his face an unreadable mask. Bellamy regularly experiences a great deal of frustration trying to decipher his friend’s emotional state, and today is no different.

“I have a picture,” Bellamy announces, fishing his phone from his pocket. He quickly finds Clarke’s contact photo, the selfie she took outside the restaurant before he kissed her during their first date.

Roan takes the phone, looks at the picture. His eyes shoot up to stare at Bellamy, his left eyebrow slowly, very slowly, climbs up his forehead and then his gaze shifts back down to study Clarke’s face one more time with a funny look on his face. “Really. You’re dating _her_?”

Irritated, Bellamy grabs the phone. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s beautiful, why are you being such a dick?”

“I apologize.” Roan raises his hands in a placating manner. “You took me off guard. She is very lovely.”

Bellamy side-eyes him as he protectively slides his phone back into his pocket. “Anyway, if Gloria wants to meet, let me know.”

Roan opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He frowns slightly, presses his lips to a tight line and shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. Bellamy has never seen his friend act so strange.

“I’ll be in touch,” Roan finally says. He glances at his front pocket where Bellamy’s phone is clearly outlined. “If you have a good feeling about this girl, Clarke, then she might be agreeable to your proclivities. Just don’t hide yourself for long.”

Bellamy looks away. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there...”

**\- Now -**

Clarke tilts her head to the side. “How were you planning to introduce that topic? I’m curious.”

He snorts. “Very carefully.”

He prowls closer to her, insinuating himself between her legs. Sitting up on the counter gives her a couple of inches on him, but the height difference works out in his favor in every way that matters.

“We already had a little snack,” he says casually, finger walking over the tops of her thighs. “But now I have an appetite for something else.”

Clarke grins, curls her hands behind his neck and pulls him closer. “Oh yeah?”

Bellamy easily finds her mouth, brushing his lips over hers in a chaste kiss that is absolutely nothing like how he plans to kiss other parts of her.

He kisses down her neck, over the tops of her naked breasts. She drops back on her elbows, reclined in a way that will surely give her a hell of a view. Not as great a view as the one Bellamy has, of her sex swollen and glistening with a combination of their fluids. She has such a pretty cunt, plump outer lips guarding her secret spot, delectable rosy folds so sensitive to his touch. Her clit, small and shy, but comes out to play when he strums it just so.

He takes a long lick up from the bottom of her cunt, collecting her juices.

“I knew there was something familiar about you when I ate you out earlier,” he comments casually. He looks at her, head thrown back, vulnerable neck exposed, breathing harshly as he inhales the sweet scent of her cunt. “You gave me your fingers that night,” he reminds her. “I nearly went crazy. Your taste is something I couldn’t easily forget no matter how much I tried.” He takes a long lick at her soft inner cunt. “Mmm. And now you taste like me too.”

It’s like a mark of ownership and he fucking loves it. He’s ever been particularly into it, but not because he found it distasteful or anything. It just wasn’t a thing he was crazy about. Now with Clarke, it’s entirely different. The action of eating her out after he came inside her has a much deeper meaning, like a brand he left inside her and he gets to savor the new flavor they created.

He curls his hands under the bend of her knees and pushes them up until her feet rest on top of the counter at her sides. Then he palms the insides of her thighs, applying pressure to open her completely. Clarke holds his gaze as he does it and he sees the shiver that goes through her before she gives in and splays her legs.

“Good girl.”

Her head falls back with a silent moan as the praise washes over her and Bellamy smirks smugly before lowering his face to her cunt.

He draws one plump fold into his hungry mouth, pulling it and releasing it with a wet sound. Before repeating the process with the other one, he detours to her clit, circling it with the tip of his tongue and then briefly sucking it.

Slithering his tongue into her cunt he finds more of the elusive flavor their juices formed. The next time he fucks her, he wants to do this right away, taste himself fresh on her cunt, collecting his cum on his tongue and letting her see it before sharing the wonderful taste of them with a sweet kiss. But for now, this will have to do.

His ears started ringing almost instantly when he started eating her out so it’s with a little surprise that Bellamy realizes he’s joined Clarke in a chorus of obscene moaning. The sounds she makes are already music to his ears, but combined with his they take him to whole other level. Like their voices create a symphony of desire and passion.

He shouldn't feel so possessive over her yet, but he’s falling hard and fast for Clarke.

He fucks her with his tongue like he did with his cock earlier, slow and easy at first, getting his tongue good and deep inside her before sliding out. Then he holds her full pussy lips open for his assault and presses his face flush against her cunt, keeping his tongue deep and swirling it inside her, putting the powerful muscle at work to strum the sensitive spots inside her.

His nose bumps the spot right under her clit and from the way Clarke’s moans have increased in volume and the uncontrollable tremble of her limbs, he can tell she’s close. His thumbs trap her clit on either side, gently rolling it between them. He can feel her flutter around his tongue, so he increases his efforts, caressing her front wall with his tongue and rolling her clit with efficiency. She goes rigid beneath him and comes, fresh wetness bathing his tongue.

He looks at her, licks his lips. Her eyes, hazy with pleasure, focus on the motion and a small whimper escapes her. “You taste so good, baby. You wanna see?” She nods and Bellamy obliges her, slowly lifting his head and offering his lips to her.

Her pupils are completely blown as she stares at him with what can only be described as hunger. Her tongue peeks out and she surprises him, daintily licking the juices coating his chin, cleaning it completely before she traps his lips on a whirlwind of a kiss that makes his knees bend under.

“I think part of me knew it was you,” Bellamy says, winded and not the least bit ashamed to admit that this woman completely fucking wrecks him. “Is that crazy?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, licking the corner of his lip to make sure she got every last drop. “But I’m curious to know why you think that...”

**\- Then -**

**January - 3rd Week**

Bellamy kicks the door closed behind him, dumping the large box with files on the end table by the door and letting his messenger bag slide to the floor. With a weary sigh he toes off his shoes and pads to the couch where he drops like dead weight.

He missed home. His team got called in to assist the Atlanta field office on a case, which is not an usual occurrence, but this case needed to be handled delicately and his team’s expertise was needed on site for a swift resolution. They caught the bad guy, neutralized the threat against a critical asset and Bellamy got to make good use of his sniper skills, which doesn’t happen often in the field these days.

All in all, it was a good week. With the exception of being away from Clarke, that is.

As if he summoned her mentally, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He fishes it out and sure enough, it’s a text from Clarke. _Are you home yet?_

Bellamy smiles, settles more comfortably on the couch and quickly thumbs a response. _Collapsed on the couch before the front door even closed._ He sees the three dots appear and disappear in the span of a second. _You?_ he sends.

The three dots appear again, disappear and before Bellamy can work up any anxiety, a picture comes through.

His mouth dries instantly. It takes his brain several long seconds to process the sheer magnitude of the picture, and longer than that for the fiery need awoken in him to subside enough to allow a somewhat articulate thought process.

She’s in the tub and there are bubbles _everywhere_. Her legs, smooth and perfectly fleshy, are the only visible part of her, wet and glistening under the candlelight. Her feet are artfully propped up on the edge of the bathtub, toenails painted a cherry red color. A glass of white wine is visible in the left corner of the picture, as are a multitude of candles, all of different sizes and colors, arranged around the ledge of the tub.

Bellamy becomes aware of the painful throbbing emanating from his groin and adjusts, stretching his leg before him to relive some of the pressure.

He has no idea how long he stares at the picture, imagining her warm and wet in her bath, suds clinging to her soft skin. The three dots on her end appear and disappear several times while he’s entranced, and that’s what finally snaps him out of it. She’s waiting for a response, probably thinking he didn’t like the picture since he’s sitting here like a moron, gaping at his phone.

_You have any idea what that picture does to me?_

It takes her less than a second to respond and Bellamy can practically feel the relief coming from her. _Good things I hope._ Followed by a blushing emoji.

A fucking emoji. He can’t help the incredulous laughter that bubbles up. This girl is unreal.

 _Wish I could be with you right now_ , he sends.

Bellamy puts his phone down for a moment and undoes his jeans, relieving the pressure on his straining cock. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down a bit until his cock springs out, tall, half hard and bobbing against his stomach. When he checks his phone again, he finds a new text from her. _The tub’s not big enough for the both of us…_

 _Sorry my hands were busy,_ he replies with a smirk. He can practically see her biting her lip. He palms his cock, while he thumbs a reply one handed, _I’d make sure we fit._

_In the tub?_

Bellamy can feel his cock hardening against his stomach, the length stretching out and swelling with blood. _Everywhere,_ he replies, watching as the words form.

_I like the sound of that._

He scoots to the edge of the couch and leans back extending his legs before him, his erect cock tall and with precum starting to bead at the swollen head.

His brain works rapidly to compose a reply - dirty talk is an art and subtlety goes a long way - but Clarke texts again before he can get too excited.

_Still on for Saturday? I am finally unpacked so the living room is habitable._

Bellamy recognizes a subject change when he sees one. They haven’t had sex yet which he doesn’t mind one bit. Getting to know her and slowly becoming closer more than makes up for it. He gingerly mouths an apology to his cock before replying to her. _Absolutely. I’ll be there around 7._

His lips stretch with a grin when her _Can’t wait_ comes through.

 _I really loved the picture,_ he sends before they goodnight.

_Enjoy it ;)_

Bellamy snorts a little laugh and shakes his head. It’s good to know he has her permission for what he’s about to do.

He scrolls up on their conversation until he finds her picture and he touches his thumb to her glistening thighs, watching with bated breath as the image expands and covers his whole screen. He takes his cock firmly in hand, eyes fixed on the picture while he thumbs the ring of foreskin circling his head. His erection didn’t disappear completely after the abrupt end of what promised to be a very gratifying sexting session - no chance of that happening knowing that she was naked at that very moment while she talked to him.

It takes very little for him to work it to a turgid state, slow pumps up and down, pausing each time as his foreskin peels agonisingly back from the head. His breath becomes ragged as precum start to dribble out, shiny beads crowning the head of his cock. His thumb smooths through the stickiness, swirling it around the sensitive tip. In his mind, Clarke is straddling him, panting against his ear as he buries his face on her tits, nibbles on her nipples, pushes fingers into her slick cunt.

With his other hand, he takes his balls, pressing them together, rolling them, squeezing just hard enough to make every muscle in his body tense. His mouth falls open with a wordless, aimless plea. There’s no one actually there with him, but he conjures a fantasy easily enough. Clarke, wet and slippery, fresh off her bath, the scent of roses clinging to her skin and mixing with the pungent, achy scent of his desire. She’d explore the head of his cock first, and his fingers mimic her imaginary action, daintily tracing the slit, the exposed tip. Next, she’d trail her soft hand down his cock, tripping over the wrinkles of his foreskin bunched tight. She’d lick her lips in anticipation and Bellamy wets his own, parched, dreaming of the taste of cunt, her cunt, of glistening fingers shyly offered to him, drenched in the arousal he provoked.

His strokes gain speed, blind to anything but the vivid image of silky blonde curls teasing the tops of his thighs and her eyes, blue and intense, looking up at him with his cock part way between her stretched lips.  The muscles in his legs and arms twitch, desperate to hold her, to touch her, to fuck her.

She’d draw back so his cockhead rested on the flat of her tongue and press her thumb behind his balls massaging the root of his cock. The pads of his fingers follow the motion, mimicking it the best he can. His cock swells in his tight grip and pulsing ropes of cum erupt from the slit, collecting around the head of his cock and over his hand as he continues to stroke through the orgasm. His groans are loud and harsh to his ears. Bellamy throws his head back, spent, panting as a blanket of elating peace settles over him, wiping off his mind everything but Clarke’s sweet, smiling face and the delighted noises she’d make as she savored the taste of his cum.

After a moment of basking, Bellamy releases his cock, now limp. His sigh is deep and content and not even the mess he made can put a damper on his mood.

The realization that Gloria intruded in his Clarke fantasy, does, however, fuck him up a little.

**\- Now -**

Clarke throws her head back and laughs. “That proves nothing! Your brain pulled material from your last blowjob to fill the blanks while you were jerking off to my picture. That’s perfectly normal.”

“Or I’m psychic,” he replies with a straight face.  

Clarke’s heart lifts and swells in her chest. She knew this night would be amazing, she could feel it, but nothing prepared her for how wonderful he’d be. Impulsively, she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him, giggling against his lips and sighing when he bands his arms around her waist.

“I have to admit… I figured you got off to my picture, that was the plan. But hearing you talk about it in detail?” Clarke bites her lip and crosses her ankles at his back, bringing him close enough his solid abdomen presses against her still sensitive cunt. “It’s incredibly hot. I’m really glad I listened to Raven and sent it.”

“Raven huh? Remind me to thank her.”

Clarke glances away from his teasing gaze. “There’s something else you should probably thank her for…”

**\- Then -**

**Halloween**

When she exits the fake restroom, no one pays her any special attention as far as she can tell. It’s less crowded now, the lights dimmer and the general atmosphere is one of sensual relaxation. There are people gathered at the other end of the room, enraptured by something she can’t see from her spot. A few small groups are otherwise occupied settled around the sitting areas, some just talking quietly among themselves and others, the ones located at the most secluded areas, seem to be enjoying their company in a different way.

She supposes Roan kept his word and stressed to her mystery man her desire to remain completely anonymous because there is no man waiting for her or paying her any kind of special attention. Clarke shouldn’t feel disappointed that they both took her directive so seriously. This is what she wanted, after all. She was clear about that and she should be happy that Roan and the man she was with respected that. In fact, it is to be expected. Raven did say they took consent and rules very seriously.

Not knowing what to do, Clarke aimlessly wanders around the room until she finds herself with the group watching a scene unfold. Bent over a waist high bench and on the receiving end of a man’s whipping, a woman, completely naked with the exception of an owl mask obscuring her face, maintains eye contact with a man with no active role in the scene, but still participating with his presence. She holds herself unflinchingly as the blows rain on her back and thighs, her attention riveted by the man reclining placidly on a plush armchair, who looks on the proceeding with a keen eye.

Clarke stares, mesmerized, for a while. But when the blows grow in intensity and the woman in the owl mask begins to jerk and falter, the second man takes action and goes to stand beside her, studying the damage on her back and resting a reassuring hand over her bent head. Clarke catches them sharing a private look as he touches his sub reassuringly while she receives the whipping with renewed stoicism. Some unspeakable emotion rises within Clarke and a longing so incomprehensible slams through her in waves until she thinks she might burst into tears.

She quickly moves to one of the unused sitting areas. She doesn’t know when she started shaking so she closes her eyes and tries to calm down. Clarke starts when someone touches her shoulder.

“Hey,” Raven whispers. “How’d it go?”

Clarke glances away, gathering herself. Emotion clogs her throat. “It was amazing,” she admits feelingly.

Raven holds her hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m glad.” Her friend’s observant gaze peruses her closely. “You’re not okay. Shit. Come with me.”

She throws her arm around Clarke’s shoulder and leads her out of the main room, limping slightly across the entry hall and into a private office. There, she sits Clarke on a loveseat and steps away briefly, only to return with a chilled bottle of water. She uncaps it, hands it to Clarke and urges it to take a drink.

Clarke brings the bottle to her parched lips and drinks thirstily. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I really did enjoy myself. I loved it.”

Raven worries her lip. “It’s not uncommon to need a little special care after an emotional and sexual high. I didn’t think the gloryhole experience would be so intense for you. It’s not usually. Roan wouldn’t have arranged it if he thought you’d need aftercare. It’s usually done by the person you did the scene with but - ”

“But I don’t want him to know who I am,” Clarke finishes the sentence, shivering. “It’s not your fault,” she assures her.

“Shit! A blanket.” Raven turns in a circle and locates a knitted blanket neatly folded atop a footrest. She mumbles to herself about her idiocy for forgetting about it while she tucks the blanket around Clarke.

Then, she sits beside her, carefully extending her left leg before her, and then hugs Clarke closely, if somewhat awkwardly.

Clarke sneaks a glance at her.

“Human contact works, I promise,” Raven assures her. “Granted, I’m not usually on this side of things but what the hell, it’s worth a shot.”

“You’re doing wonderfully, my dove.”

Both girls’ head snap up in the voice direction. Roan stands by the door, leaning casually with his arms crossed over his impressive chest.

“What are you waiting for?” Raven hufs, ignoring Clarke cheekily mouthing the word _dove_ and giving her a look. “Come cuddle Clarke with me.”

He acquiesces with a little smile. Before she knows it, Clarke is sandwiched by them. And it does help her. Roan encourages her to drink the rest of the water and even produces a box of chocolates from a side table. Clarke graciously eats a few, watching, amused, as Roan feeds parcels to Raven by hand and her friend accepts them obediently.

“Thank you for this,” Clarke tells them. “I feel like such a baby.”

“Don’t,” Roan replies shortly. “I should’ve anticipated this. I apologize.” He sighs. “He is going to have my ass when he finds out about this.”

He? Oh. Her mystery man. “Why?”

“He would’ve wanted to take care of you. See to your needs. He will feel responsible for not being here for you. And he will be rightfully angry that I denied him the opportunity.”

“He’s still here?” Raven wonders. Roan nods. “I thought I saw him leave.”

“He stepped outside to get some air. He was quite shaken as well,” Roan explains, giving Clarke a shrewd look. “It appears that was a very intense encounter for both of you.”

Clarke smiles softly. She likes the sound of that.

“Well if he’s here, go get him,” Raven barks.

“No!” Clarke sits up. “I don’t want to meet him.”

Her friend looks at her like she’s crazy. Roan is more discreet, but Clarke can still detect a trace of disapproval on his face.

“Why the fuck not?” Raven asks bluntly.

“I just don’t. And you promised,” she reminds them, steel in her gaze.

Roan nods. “She’s right.”

“Thank you,” Clarke tells him. “I just want to go home.”

“I will arrange it.”

Roan stands up, smiles at Clarke, drops a kiss on Raven’s head and exits the office.

“Do you want me to go home with you?” Raven offers. “I don’t want you to be alone. We can cuddle, it’ll be just like the old times.”

Clarke hugs her. “I appreciate the offer, but I really am fine.”

“Okay,” Raven concedes grudgingly. “But call me tomorrow and we’ll do lunch.”

“Will do,” Clarke promises.

“And Clarke? He’s a good guy,” Raven tells her. “I know you’re not interested in relationships at the moment, but he’s worth it.”

Roan returns to the office before Clarke has to answer, announcing that the car is waiting for her. Clarke thanks her lucky stars for the chance to escape without having to reply to her friend, but she knows it’ll be a short reprieve…

**\- Now -**

Clarke bites her lip as Bellamy soberly and patiently listens to her recount of Raven and Roan’s help that night. She didn’t mean to put a damper on the mood, but she felt he needed to know what happened.

“I should’ve been there for you,” Bellamy states, twining their fingers together and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “From now on, I’ll take good care of you.”

His solemn vow has a direct impact on her heart, making it swell and somersault in her ribcage with hope and excitement.

It also manages to turn her on despite the spectacular orgasm she recently had.

Clarke pushes off the counter and lands gracefully on her feet. A smirk curls her lips as she drops to her knees before Bellamy with deliberate slowness. “Let me take care of you now,” she says while giving his erect cock a meaningful look. “And you’ve got a deal.”

“Really?” he laughs the word out, a happy and pleased sound that fills her with joy.

“Mmmhhm,” Clarke hums, licking her lips and getting them shiny and wet.

He threads his fingers through her hair, combing it back and holding the silky curls in a firm fist at the back of her skull. Clarke opens her mouth and groans wantonly as her tongue makes contact with his cock, the stable pressure of his hand making her pulse raise.

“What do you say if you want to stop?”

His question centers her thoughts and simultaneously amplifies her desire. Now she knows he means business.

“Red,” she replies with surety, remembering Raven told her it was the universal safeword when they arrived at the Halloween party.

“Good girl. But if you can’t talk, hold up you hand and I’ll stop. We clear?” At her eager nod his grip on her hair tenses. “Then open up wide for me.”

His cock advances into her mouth until he touches the back of her throat, slightly triggering her gag reflex. Clarke moans and swallows around him, closing her eyes as pure bliss spreads through her. She missed his taste, the weight of him on her tongue.  She swallows around him, delighting in the way the walls of her throat caress the tip of his cock and appreciative groan it provokes from Bellamy.

The fist holding back her hair tightens while his other hand simultaneously caresses her hollowed cheek with heartwarming gentleness. “You look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby.”

Clarke makes a strangled sound, unavoidably turned on by his praising words and the juxtaposition of his treatment of her. He is gentle but firm, won’t hurt her but demands her total submission to his throat fucking. He guides her movements, letting her draw back and take big swallows of air with silver strings of saliva connecting his cock to her panting lips, before his unyielding length invades her mouth again.

“I’m going to fuck you later,” he tells her when she draws back. Clarke raises her eyes to him, the heat of his dark gaze scalding her all over. “I want you to get your pussy good and ready for me.”

She moans softly and licks her lips, the tip of her tongue barely grazing the head of his bobbing cock.

“Get your little fingers working your pussy, but make sure you don’t come.”

He might as well be telling her how he likes his coffee, his tone as innocent and ordinary as if they were talking about mundane things. For some reason, the detachment and normality with which he speaks of such a dirty act makes her even hotter.

Clarke unclenches her hands from where she’s been digging her fingers on her thighs and lets one cup her hot cunt while the other travels up her torso to pluck her nipple.

Bellamy smirks. “Good. I like the initiative you’re showing. Now Clarke, and this is the most important thing… no matter how quiet or discreet you are, I will know if you come.” Clarke shivers and moans helplessly as he applies pressure with the hand wrapped around her hair and pulls down, making her angle her head back to an awkward angle that displays the delicate line of her throat. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, leaning down and breathing the words against her lips.

Clarke attempts to nod and fails admirably, given that her head is held immobile by his fist. The fingers petting her pussy are greeted by a fresh rush of wetness.

“Yes, I understand,” she whispers, desperately.

Bellamy gradually releases the pressure on her hair and guides her head back in position, making sure she doesn’t pull a muscle by doing it too fast. “Good girl. Now suck my cock.”

With reverent enthusiasm, Clarke throws herself to her task. He gives her leniency to suck him as she pleases, so she spends a good amount of time softly teasing the head of his cock, holding his foreskin by closing her lips around it and making a back and forward motion with her head, causing the thin skin to glide over his turgid length and providing a subtle but effective stimulation. She adores him with her mouth, as if his cock is a prize bestowed upon her to pay oral homage.

She flutters her tongue against the exposed head and hollows her cheeks, a throaty groan gracing her ears at the suction she offers him. When she takes him all the way to the back of her throat, she feels Bellamy’s hand release her hair and cup her nape, applying pressure until his cock enters the tight confines of her throat and his pubic hair tickles her nose. A brief flash of panic jolts her when she realizes she can’t take a breath, not even from her nose, but it dissipates when she hears Bellamy’s encouraging voice and feels his fingers weave through her hair above her ear.

“That’s very good baby. You’re taking it like a pro.”

Tears prick her eyes but Clarke doubles her efforts to make him come, waggling her tongue on the underside of his cock and swallowing around him as her fingers build up speed between her legs.

Bellamy guides her back and she takes a big gulp of air, looking up at him with eyes blurring with unshed tears and her orgasm closer with every heartbeat.

Bellamy tenderly wipes at the wetness collected under her eyes. “Now I want to see how you swallow my cum. I didn’t get to see it that night at the club. Can you please hold your tongue out for me?”

He angles her head back and Clarke opens her mouth obediently, letting the head of his cock rest on her tongue. Her pussy quivers under her diligent fingers and she fears she won’t be able to keep herself from coming, or worse, that she doesn’t even want to continue trying. While disappointing him is the last thing she wants, she knows the taste of his cum will likely push her over the edge.

“Slow those little fingers down baby,” he instructs her, slowly jerking his cock, his knuckles grazing her chin with every lazy pump. “I told you you can’t come yet, I need you ready for later.”

Clarke whines softly buts slows her motions all the same, almost to the point of completely stopping. When his taste explodes in her mouth as he deposits his cum in the flat of her tongue, she has to drop her hand because even the most minimal stimulation is too much. She swallows and laps at his cock, catching every drop of cum as it quietly erupts from the tip and dribbles down the long column of his cock.

“I knew you’d be like this. Demanding,” Clarke confesses with a broken moan, licking her lips to savor the taste of his cum. “That night when I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I hadn’t even met you and you commanded my fantasies…”

Bellamy’s dark gaze is riveted on her as she gives him the details of that night…

**\- Then -**

**Halloween**

Her heels click on the hardwood floor as she steps into her apartment, shoving the door close behind her. Clarke drops her purse and keys on the kitchen island, contemplating the mess that is her living room.

She conducts a quick search around the many unpacked boxes sitting on her living room and finds what she was looking for. She’ll unpack the rest in the morning. She walks back to the island, gets her phone from her purse and sends a quick text to Raven letting her know she got home okay as she walks the short distance down the hallway to the bathroom.

Quickly shedding her clothes she takes the object into the bathroom with her and places it on the sink, turning the faucet until warm water runs through it. With fragrance-free soap, she works a lather and thoroughly washes it. She cleaned it properly before storing it before moving, but it’s been trapped in that box for over a month so who knows what kind of bacteria it came in contact with.

Anything that’s going to spend an extended period of time up close with her pussy needs to be squeaky clean.

Although just five inches in length, with the tip perfectly proportioned to emulate the head of an erect penis, the glass dildo makes her toes curl and easily provides g-spot stimulation. It’s her favorite toy, one she bought herself as a treat when she started college, and she’s never shared it with anyone. There were other toys she bought with the intention of using with her partners, but not this one. It’s hers and hers alone and she guards it zealously.

She runs a shower and steps in, methodically scrubbing herself with her shower glove and washing her hair. When she gets out she dries herself quickly and blow dries her hair. After testing with the back of her hand that the glass dildo is the perfect temperature after being in contact with the warm water, she retrieves a bottle of lube from the cabinet under the sink and takes both items into the bedroom with her.

Clarke throws the covers back and settles comfortably on the bed, her legs extended to either side exposing her sex to the cool air of her bedroom. Already moist, her pussy starts dripping as she rubs her lubed fingers across her smooth mound and parts her puffy lips, groaning with pleasure as she probs two fingers into her opening.

Reaching out, Clarke wraps her hand around the thick shaft of her favorite toy. Holding the base of the cock in both hands, she positions it at her pussy entrance rubbing the head and shaft up through her pussy lips and over her already sensitive clit, then back till the glass toy is poised at her quivering entrance, nestling the head of the cock against the opening. Without any more hesitation, she very slowly starts to push the toy until its bulbous head penetrates her and a few inches of its shaft quickly follow.

With a shuddering sigh, she pushes the cock deep inside her. Her eyes close as her back gently rises up from the bed into an arch, her pussy swallowing every thick inch until they kiss the base of the toy.

Motionless, she stays there as a warm feeling rushes through her brain and body. This is what she needed, what she craved during her encounter with the stranger. Like a tidal wave of sexual energy engulfing her, a feeling of undiluted pleasure and relief passes through her.

Clarke lets out a content sigh, slowly lowering her back down onto the bed. Laying there still in the silence of her bedroom, enjoying the fullness of her pussy and the sensations running through her body, her imagination takes flight settling, unsurprisingly, on the mystery man she allowed into her mouth.

His cock was considerably larger than her glass dildo, yet picturing it’s him driving inside her is no hardship. He would go slow at first, instructing her to relax her cunt around him as he thrusted in and out. She would feel her tight pussy stretched to capacity and it’d be uncomfortable at first but then, under his patient fucking, her pussy would give little by little, allowing him to feed every inch of his thick cock into her.

Inch by euphoric inch, Clarke slowly pumps the glass toy in and out, only the head remaining inside her. The thought of the stranger’s cock thrusting inside her makes her shudder with need and elicits a wanton groan. So stretched, so full she would be by him.

Wanting more, Clarke applies pressure to the base of her favorite toy, as the stranger would to force her pussy to accept his huge intruder. Once he was completely inside her, he would stop and let her catch her breath as her pussy adjusted to the wonderful thickness stretching her open. He would kiss her, whisper in her ear encouragingly and the tingling pain of being split so wide would slowly recede.

Mind lost in the decadent fantasy, her pussy grips the dildo tightly. Her toes curl with her legs tensing up so tight it causes her cunt to involuntarily squeeze around the glass shaft. Pushing and pulling, Clarke starts to fuck herself. Pulls out slowly, then quickly thrusts back up inside. She pumps the dildo in and out of her pussy until she has steady rhythm going, imagining the snap of his hips against hers. A wave of pleasure races through every cell of her tingling body.

She groans hoarsely, taken over by an uncontrollable, untameable lust. Harder and harder she thrusts. Faster and faster, she can feel the energy building inside her, her orgasm approaching.

Grunting with exertion, Clarke furiously pumps her hips up off the bed, meeting the thrusts delivered by her hand as she clamps her thighs together on the toy. The intense pressure of her impending orgasm mounting, she turns around blindly grabbing her full-body pillow and folds it in half before straddling it. Clarke rocks her hips against it, bearing down on the toy. Unable to keep her whimpers down, she lets out a strangled moan as her clit comes in contact with the pillow, the wonderful friction coupled with the unyielding toy inside her too much for her to take. Her pussy clamps hard around the glass dildo and spasms as her climax rattles her to the core. Pulse after pulse of muscle contractions grip the dildo as she bucks with the waves of orgasm riding through her.

In her mind, the stranger grips her hips as she rides him and urges her to take every inch of his solid dick. He comes with her in her fantasy and Clarke tastes him in her tongue, as vividly as she did earlier that night. An undeniable sense of peace and calm descends upon her, a warm and content feeling takes her. In her fantasy, he wraps her into his arms and holds her there as they both recover.

Clarke slowly comes back, sated. Her body has lost all strength so she collapses on her bed, face down, legs spread, clenching around the glass dildo by the motion causing her body to buck against the pillow one last time.

She slumps in exhaustion on her bed, wanting nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep of peace and satisfaction.

With herculean effort, she slowly pulls the toy out of her quivering pussy. She brings it up to her face, studying the smooth surface covered in her copious juices. Sticking out her tongue, Clarke curls it around the head, gently lapping at the glistening dildo as she would a real cock.

As she did with the strangers cock after she smeared her messy fingers over his length.

Clarke moans at the memory, enjoying the taste of herself.

Before falling into a blissful sleep, Clarke pushes herself off the bed. Her knees wobble so she walks carefully across the hallway to the bathroom, her toy in hand. She gives it a quick rinse. Tomorrow she’ll stick it in the dishwasher. She pees, brushes her teeth and applies moisturizer on her face and hands as she does every night before bed.

Finally, she drags her pillow to the hamper, turns off all the lights and climbs back into her bed. Sleep finds her easily.

**\- Now -**

Hearing Clarke describe the way she fucked herself that night nearly makes Bellamy go all caveman on her and throw her over his shoulder to take her to her bedroom and fuck her again. He knows how she felt when he told her about masturbating to her picture and it is fucking sweet.

“You have nothing to say?” she asks him, a little shy and unsure. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking about all the things I want to do to you,” he tells her with candid honesty.

He lifts her bridal style into his arms and Clarke’s giggles echo in the kitchen. They’re buck naked and they’ve done amazingly obscene things for and to each other, yet his most primal thought as he stares at her sweet face isn’t how many more times he can make her come before the night is through, but how fucking adorable she is and how he is practically gone for her.

He still plans to make her come at least two more times.   

He nods at her dildo. “Can you please grab that? My hands are full,” he winks.

Clarke’s smile falters a little and he sees her hesitate when she glances at the dildo. Then Bellamy remembers something she told him a few minutes before, that this dildo is special to her and she’s never shared it with anyone, not even with her previous long-term relationships. He prepares to apologize and gracefully backpedal, his brain going a mile a minute thinking of alternatives to what he had planned to do to her. But before he can utter a word, Clarke reaches for the dildo and cradles it against her chest, shooting him a confident smile.

Bellamy is not particularly attached to any of his sex toys, but he gets why some people are so he realizes this is a big deal for her. The notion humbles him and strengthens his desire for her, to show her he deserves the trust she’s depositing on him.

The anatomic tip of the glass dildo is nestled between her breasts and Bellamy’s cock stirs. He files the idea for later use.

He notices her shiver and delicate goosebumps appear on the delicate skin of her breasts. Her nipples harden to twin points as well. Bellamy smirks. “It’s cold huh?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Just a little.”

Bellamy hums. “Let’s see how long it takes for your pussy to warm it up.”

He carries her to the bed and very carefully places her there, bending his knees and leaning forward with her until her back touches the firm mattress. Her legs hang from the side of the bed, her feet dangling without coming close to touch the floor. Bellamy studies her, tilting his head to the side with possibilities swimming in his mind.

“You do yoga right?”

If the randomness of his question confuses her, Clarke shows no indication except a slight wrinkle across her forehead. She nods instead, which he knew she would. She mentioned that she’s been practicing yoga for the past five years and that she recently started up Pilates. If all that’s true, and he has no reason to think Clarke would lie to him, she should be delightfully flexible.

His eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Good.”

Bellamy steps between her legs and Clarke opens them accordingly to make room for him. He hooks his hands under her knees and brings them up, very slowly, until her ass is lifted off the bed. But he doesn’t stop there and that draws a reaction from her, a faint moan she exhales as his hands caress her calves until they wrap around her ankles, trapping them in an unyielding grip. Bellamy smirks and applies pressure on her ankles in a forward motion, which makes her lower back lift off the mattress completely as her legs are raised all the way up and down until her toes touches the mattress, ankles on either side and beyond her head.

This position really tests her flexibility, and it couldn’t be achieved (not that Bellamy would even dare to try it) if she hadn’t been training her body for years until it was malleable and elastic enough to support this.

“How does that feel?” he asks her, eyeing her with open concern. “Any pain or discomfort at all?”

Clarke smiles calmly. “I’m good.” She curls her hands over the back of her calves and pushes, extending her legs a little further.

Bellamy’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. She’s completely exposed to him like this, folded on herself to present her delectable cunt to him. When he kneels on the mattress, the tops of his hairy thighs touch the small of her back and the head of his bobbing cock, half hard even after her superb oral attentions, grazes the globes of her ass as he situates himself.

“I need you to tell me if it starts to hurt,” he tells her, completely serious, his warm hands caressing the backs of her thighs. Goosebumps erupt across her skin under the patient strokes of his hands.

“I will,” Clarke promises.

Bellamy frames her pussy with his palms, pulling it open to expose her inner cunt. He bends forward and buries his face for a second in her exquisite cunt, lapping at her juices as Clarke yelps in surprise. But before he gets too into it, he lifts his face and meets her lusty gaze. He feels around with his hand while they maintain silent but heavy eye contact, until his hand touches the cool dildo left unattended beside them.

“You’re so wet this little guy is going to slide right in,” Bellamy observes, showing her the green dildo and motioning at her pussy with it, being careful to hold it at the very base so his palm doesn’t warm the shaft.

Clarke’s legs tremble but she holds the position. His free hand travels mid point to the back of her thigh to offer support.

He touches the head of the fake cock to her quivering entrance, making Clarke jerk and moan wantonly.

“Cold huh?” Bellamy says with fake sympathy. “Don’t worry, your cunt is so hot you’re gonna have no trouble warming it.” He applies a little pressure and the tip pops into her channel, the widest part of the anatomic head widening her considerably. “How about we make it a real challenge and see how long it takes for you to warm it up with just the tip inside?”

In truth, the glass dildo is not that cold, just barely cool at touch. But her cunt is so hot the contrast of temperatures is drastic enough for her. By her reaction, Bellamy doubts she’s ever experimented with temperature play. Maybe one day in the future, he’ll let the glass dildo sit on the freezer for a bit and show her what cold really feels like against her sensitive cunt.

Bellamy twists the dildo, stimulating the pleasure points along her entrance. Clarke whines and arches her ass up, no doubt trying to take more of the dildo inside her. This position doesn’t offer her any leverage so her efforts, while noted, are no good.

Bellamy clucks his tongue and removes the fake cock from her with torturous slowness. “That was cheating Clarke. We agreed we’d just try with the head.”

Clarke’s eyes flash open and she shoots him a powerful glare. Bellamy chuckles. The more he riles her up, the wetter she gets. He doesn’t know if she realizes that, but he’s definitely going to show her.

He presses the cool shaft along her inner cunt, the tip touching her clit and the tapered end stimulating the section between her entrance and her untouched rosebud. Clarke moans loudly, a long sultry sound that grows throatier when he pulls the plump outer folds of her pussy to cover the dildo, stretching them to capacity to envelop the thick shaft.

Bellamy leans forward and trails his tongue over the slit and the edges of her folds. Her juices are smeared all over her outer cunt so his fingers slip, releasing a malleable fold before he intended. He clucks his tongue again. “This won’t do.”

He removes the dildo, which has warmed considerably, slips it into her in one fluid motion. Surprised by the sudden penetration, Clarke curses under her breath and one of her hands accidentally releases her hold on her clave, making her leg go partially up, so Bellamy gallantly catches her leg and supports it.

Her hand threads on her blonde waves and pulls at them. Bellamy stares at her in the throes of passion, tempted to remove the dildo and fuck her just like this.

But he has other plans. He touches the tapered end of the dildo and pushes on it, giving her the impression of a deeper penetration. “Hold this little guy in while I clean you up, baby.”

Clarke nods with a broken moan. Bellamy starts by licking up her thighs, making his way gradually down and lapping at the juices smeared all over her mound and outer cunt. Every once in awhile, he applies pressure on the dildo and jams it deeper inside her as it starts to slip out due to the contractions of her cunt.

When he starts on her soft inner cunt it’s like reaching nirvana. Single minded focus descends on his brain and he goes a little crazy, addicted to her taste and desirous of drinking in every last drop. He tastes her in rolling waves with his untiring tongue, slipping it under the tapered end of the toy and collecting the fresh juices gathered around her stretched opening. Clarke’s moans and incomprehensible words egg him on, the orgasm that crashes through her inspiring an increase in his efforts.

A small part of his brain, almost buried in the animalistic desire he has for her, notes with triumphant cheer that if it hadn’t been for the same dildo he is now fucking her with, Bellamy and Clarke wouldn’t be doing this tonight and instead would’ve continued to tread the waters around each other for who knows how much longer...

**\- Then -**

**January - 4th Week - Earlier That Night**

“I don’t know what I did for you to torture me with this movie.”

Clarke grins, blindingly bright. “But the colors are so pretty! And you have to appreciate the ironic music.”

“A movie about the French Revolution without an iota of politics,” Bellamy snorts, frowning at the screen.

“It’s all about the aesthetic, Bellamy.”

“The colors aren’t pretty enough to distract me from the glaring misrepresentation of Marie Antoinette.”

“You’re adorable.” Before he can respond, she plants a kiss on his cheek and a jumps to her feet. “I need to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll clean up,” Bellamy offers.

“Just leave it,” she throws over her shoulder. He chuckles to himself as he watches her head down the hallway to where he assumes the bathroom and her bedroom are located, and picks up their empty glasses, dishes and used napkins.

He takes care of the garbage first but just as he opens the dishwasher he hears Clarke yell “WAIT!”

The why is pretty evident.

Right there, between a saucepan and a potato masher, there’s a dildo. A bright green, glass dildo.

“Don’t use the dishwasher!” she cries as she tears down the hallway in his direction, abruptly coming to a halt, panting and holding onto the breakfast bar as she watches, wide eyed, as he picks the toy up from the rack.

He vaguely registers her pained groan, too busy inspecting the toy. It’s about five inches long and has a realistic head, smooth, without bumps or imperfections marring the shaft, and a flared base. It’s cool to the touch but it heats in his palm as he turns it this way and that. Perfect for temperature play.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Bellamy looks up abruptly, realizing he’s been staring at her dildo for an inappropriate period of time. He sees Clarke hiding her face behind her hands. What a fucking jackass he is.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, carefully depositing the dildo on the countertop. “I shouldn’t have touched that without permission.”

Clarke slowly drops her hands, revealing her blushing face. “I can’t believe I forgot it was there,” she shakes her head, mortified. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It was a surprise,” he admits with a smile. “But not a bad one. Seriously Clarke, you have nothing to be embarrassed of,,” Bellamy tells her with a crooked grin, stepping close to her and running his hands up and down her arms comfortingly. He juts his chin at the green dildo. “That’s fucking hot actually.”

Clarke snorts a little laugh and relaxes, resting her forehead on his chest and fitting her hands flat between them.

Bellamy drops a kiss on the top of her head, her silky hair pillowing his lips for a glorious moment. “I think I should get going though,” he says regretfully.

She peers up at him. “Why?”

He wets his lips nervously. “I’m not going to lie, that’s having an effect on me, specially when I picture you using it. I can’t help it. I care about you and I want to keep seeing you, so I think it’s safer for me to go before I do or say something you’re not ready for and screw everything up.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Clarke…”

“I’m serious. Please stay.”

**\- Now -**

The walls of her cunt clench and unclench around the glass shaft, pushing it out gradually as aftershocks of her orgasm roll through her. Bellamy gentles her by kissing her mound, around the dildo while he holds it in with two fingers, the backs of her trembling thighs.

While she recovers, he helps her unfold herself, carefully lowering her legs and massaging her muscles in languid caresses to prevent cramping. Her nimble limbs are malleable under his touch and Bellamy easily repositions her further up on the bed so that her legs no longer dangle off the side. The dildo has gradually slipped out of her and only half of it is currently enveloped by her cunt. He touches the tapered end and carefully thrusts in.

Clarke mewls and arches her hips. “It’s too much.”

“Nuh huh. I’m not done with your cunt yet.” He arranges one of her legs over the other so they’re crossing and securely keeping the dildo in place. “How does that feel?”

Her brow knits delicately as she lets out a shaky sigh. “Oh God… Full. I feel full.”

Bellamy gives her an approving nod. “Good. Hold your legs just like this.” He looks around the room. “Do you by chance have any lube?”

Clarke’s eyes shoot open and her face tightens for a second before she bursts with laughter. Bellamy waits her out patiently, a smile stretching his lips, unconcerned by her odd behaviour. She is beautiful when she laughs, and the fact that she’s buck naked and impaled by a dildo he slipped into her himself only makes it better.

She wipes a stray tear as giggles bubble up. “Do I ever…”

**\- Then -**

**January - 4th Week - Earlier That Night**

Her front door opens and closes and Clarke looks up from her toenails, confused, stilling her hand from applying the bright red polish. Brazen, Raven saunters into her living room.

“I told you I wasn’t coming to the party tonight,” Clarke says by way of greeting.

“Yeah, yeah, you have a hot date. I’m here to make sure you’re presentable.”

Clarke chuckles and focuses on her toenails again, carefully applying a coat of polish on her big toe. “We’re just watching a movie and ordering pizza. Nothing fancy.”

“You’re gonna get laid tonight,” Raven informs her and Clarke cackles. “By my calculations you haven’t had a good dicking in months so you’re past due.”

Clarke gives her friend a lopsided smile. “The dildo in my dishwasher might disagree with that assessment.”

Raven blinks, momentarily taken back. “Regardless. Tonight, you’re gonna get good and properly fucked.”

“Why are you so interested in my sex life? Ever since I told you I’m seeing Bellamy you’ve been weirdly invested.”

“You turned down meeting Roan’s glory hole friend to see where things might go with this Bellamy guy, so yeah, I’m very interested to see how this plays out. Besides,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “After taking you to the party I feel like I’m your kinky godmother or something. It’s my duty to look over your sex life.”

“It’s really not.”

“Roll with it.” Raven plops herself next to Clarke on the couch. “So what are you gonna wear?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Jeans and a henley.”

Raven nods, appreciatively. “Relaxed, comfortable. Like you’re not trying too hard. And your tits look great on a Henley. What else?”

“Um, socks?”

Raven gives her a flat stare. “No socks. If your feet get cold it gives you an excuse to snuggle. Now, underwear?”

“I’m not planning on him seeing my underwear.”

“Good thing I’m your kinky godmother then.” She digs through her large purse and finally produces a paper bag. “Here. I ordered this a while back but it’s too big for me.”

Clarke peeks into the bag. “You accidentally ordered lingerie on my size?”

“Yep. So you might as well take it,” Raven shrugs innocently and pushes the small bag into her hands.

“Thank you,” Clarke smiles. “You really didn’t have to.”

Raven shrugs again. “So what time is he coming over?”

“An hour or so.” Clarke caps the nail polish and applies spray drier to her freshly painted toenails.

“Then I’ll get out of your hair. Condoms?” she asks, an afterthought.

“How many times do I have to tell you I'm not having sex with him tonight?” Raven just stares at her. “They're in bathroom under the sink. Not that we’d use them, we talked about it and we’re both clean and I have an IUD. There’s no need.”

“So let me get this straight. You’ve been dating for almost three months, you’re already covered the subject of birth control but you haven’t had sex yet? How does that even work?”

**\- Then -**

**December - 2nd Week**

“Oh. Oh my God. Harder. Fuck, it hurts so good.”

Bellamy’s hands stammer on her bare foot, thumbs slipping up her sore arch with less finesse than their previous motion. “Keep that up and I’ll need to excuse myself to the bathroom for ten minutes.”

Clarke cracks open an eye and wiggles her foot in her lap. “You can have the bathroom for a whole hour if you want as long as you finish the job.”

He snorts and shakes his head, the corners of his mouth ticked up. “You’re very generous.”

She gives him a toothy grin. “You can help yourself to my body lotion.”

Bellamy glances at her and the heat in his eyes warms her all over, licking at her core and kindling a quiet but persistent fire there. Times like this, she wonders what the hell she’s waiting for to jump his bones. It’d be so easy to just climb onto his lap and continue their makeout session, interrupted when he casually massaged her bare foot while he licked into her mouth and Clarke let out an obscene moan she had no control off. After that, Bellamy guided her to rest her back against the armrest with her feet on his lap and proceeded to give her a much needed foot massage.

But while she could go back to making out, this is pretty fucking amazing too. Bellamy’s gloriously skilled hands aside, she doesn’t feel a rush to “close the deal” with him as Raven so crudely put it when they last spoke. They’re getting to know each other at a comfortable pace and while they’ve kept things PG for the most part, Clarke finds herself enjoying the undercurrent of sexual tension steadily growing between them.

Bellamy presses both thumbs to the inside center of the arch, applying up and down pressure with each one. Clarke’s mouth falls open with a breathy moan as the electric tingle travels up her calf.

“I meant to ask,” she says, a little breathless. “What’s your take on condoms?”

His fingers only hesitate for a second before they continue making small circles with medium pressure around her heel. He answers simply, “I use them when I have to.”

“Cool. I got an IUD a few months ago and let me tell you, not having periods is a welcome change,” Clarke shares.

Bellamy shoots her a smile. “I believe that.”

Clarke nibbles her lip, nervous inside despite the easy conversation. “Anyway, I’m clean so, if you are too, we could do the environment a favor and skip the condoms when we start having sex.”

Bellamy exhales and his hands tighten around her foot, enveloping it completely. Clarke feels a low hum start beating at her core, that desire simmering just beneath the surface when he’s around her.

“I’d like that,” he tells her, and he’s serious but his eyes are alight. “We’d save a ton of money.”

“Probably ruin the condom industry.”

“Definitely.”

**\- Then -**

**January - 3rd Week**

Clarke smiles fondly at the memory. “Communication is more important that sex, Raven.”

Her friend rolls her eyes. “Ugh. You sound like Roan.”

Raven rolls her eyes and produces a drugstore bag from her purse before heading straight to her bedroom. She returns shortly and, after taking a cursory glance around the living room, zeroes her focus in on one of the decorative boxes lining her coffee table. She lifts the lid and deposits a string of Trojan’s Magnum condoms in it. Lastly, she takes a small bottle of lube from the paper bag and puts it on the box next to the condoms. She balls the bag and closes the lid with and soft click.

“Magnums? Really?” Clarke remarks.

“I'm optimistic about this guy.”

“And the lube?”

“You might be in the mood for anal later.”

Clarke laughs. “Thank you, kinky godmother.”

“Have fun!”

**\- Now -**

Bellamy joins her laughter as he retrieves the unopened bottle of lube from her nightstand. “Surprise anal isn’t really my thing. I prefer to take a little more time to prepare if that’s alright with you.”

Clarke throws back her arms and stretches, releasing a low pleasured groan. “Fine by me.”

“I’d rather fuck your tits instead.”

She licks her lips. “Yes, please.”

He digs one knee on the mattress beside her hip and then deliberately swings his other leg over her so that he’s straddling her. He advances, looming over her until he reaches her waist. He makes sure not to put too much weight on her when he sits back on his heels. He grabs a pillow and Clarke lifts her head for him to slip it under her.

Bellamy flips open the lid of the bottle of lube and inclines it. He rains several fat drops over her breasts and the valley between them. Unprompted, Clarke starts massaging it on her supple breasts until they are completely covered. The glistening globes beckon him so Bellamy pushes up on his knees and scoots closer. Clarke takes his cock in her slippery hand, giving him a few pumps to coat him with the lube clinging to her palms before placing him between her ample breasts and squeezing them together onto his dick.

They both groan at the feeling of being connected in such a way. Bellamy caresses her cheek as Clarke uses her breasts to massage his cock between them, his rigid length sliding between the tight passage with deliberately slow thrusts. “So fucking beautiful.”

Bellamy reaches back with his hand and pets her smooth mound, teasing the seam between her crossed thighs. Her hips shudder when he slips his index in her slit and locates her clit.

“Please, Bellamy,” she murmurs in a breathy tone while his thrusts gain speed between her breasts. Her hands press her tits against his cock, pulling them away, and pushing them back together over and over, creating a tight channel for his cock to slide in and out.

His rhythm is thrown and his hips jerk involuntarily, the tip of his cock touching Clarke’s chin with every hard thrust. She angles her head back and slips her tongue out to caress his head, plucking her nipples as she keeps her tits wrapped tightly around him. Bellamy increases his efforts on her clit, rubbing it in tight little circles until her hips arch of the bed and she comes with a drawn out moan, her entire body shaking under him. Her jaw drops as her eyes close in pure bliss and he holds his cock right there, the tip resting against her panting lips.

How he managed to hold his orgasm back at that moment, he’ll never know. He was close to the edge for sure, but he never intended to come on her breasts or face, although that’s certainly an idea for another time.

He pushes off her and lays sideways beside her. Clarke’s legs uncross and fall limply open, inviting him to remove the dildo from her cunt. She sighs appreciatively as the glass shaft slips out, snuggling against him. Bellamy props himself up on his forearm and dips his head to brush a sweet kiss on her lips. Clarke cups his jaw and kisses him back.  

His hard cock pokes her belly and she gasps. “You didn’t come.”

He smirks against her lips. “Yet.”

She groans and breathes a laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

Clarke reaches for him when he kneels on the bed and opens her legs in clear invitation. He settles between them and it’s like coming home. “Are you good to go?” he asks her. “Do you need a little more warm up?”

She snorts. “I’ve been sufficiently warmed up.” She threads her fingers in his curls and pulls hard on them, bringing his head down for a wet kiss. “I need you to fuck me already.”

He slides inside her, slowly, patiently. “What did I say about you giving me orders?”

Her mouth opens in a silent gasp and he loses himself on her clear eyes.

“Can’t believe I found you,” he says as he touches bottom within her, gently combing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.

“You weren’t looking,” she reminds him without a trace of reproach. She breathes heavily and her eyes flutter closed when he adjusts his angle, sitting back on his heels and slipping a pillow beneath her to prop her hips up.

“That’s true,” Bellamy admits, his warm hands caressing the slope of her hips. “Once I met you, Clarke, I didn’t care about the mystery girl that blew my mind off one Halloween. Getting to know you, making you laugh, blush, that was a high unparalleled by anything I’ve ever felt.”

Clarke’s eyes tear up a little and her throat, sore from moaning so much, clogs up with emotion. She finds his hands at her hips and threads their fingers together as she crosses her ankles at the small of his back. The sensation of his cock twitching and reaching deeper inside her is made all the more intimate by the tight grip they have on each other’s hands and the uninterrupted eye contact.

“That night I really wanted to burst into your stall and fuck you, you know?”

She grins. “I almost wanted to let you.”

“Maybe we can go back there sometime, I’ll kick open the door and bend you over that bench,” he suggests, rocking his hips slowly against her. His velvet voice and soft eyes belie the lewd, erotic words he speaks to her and the naughty rush they provoke in her. “Push your face against the wall and fuck you hard just like that.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Clarke moans softly, tilting her hips to receive his cock. “Let’s do that.”

Bellamy raises one of their joined hands and kisses the back of hers. “I had a feeling you’d be into it. But right now I don’t want that. I want you just like this.”

Still inside her, he arranges her legs to lay horizontal to him bracing his hips. The new angle has his cock pressing up against the front of her cunt and it takes Clarke’s breath away. He looks at her with open desire and rests a heavy hand low on her belly, almost over her pubic bone, and applies steady pressure as he pulls back and thrusts in.

Clarke gasps helplessly. His cock drags over all sort of delicious spots along the front wall of her cunt. “Oh fuck.”

Her now free hands wander to her breasts, kneading them and plucking her nipples as he sets a steady rhythm, pulling in and out in measured strokes. He reaches a new depth, the head of his cock kissing a spot inside her that electrifies her.

She tenses all over, digging her fingers into her tits in a way that is sure to leave little bruises later. It was almost like an orgasm, but not quite, a wave of sensation that washed through her without the lineal build up of a normal climax.

He smirks at her. “That’s it. That’s the spot.”

Clarke pants, winded from the surprising feeling. “I’m not going to survive this am I?”

Bellamy snorts with a fond smile and caresses that spot above her pubic bone with the flat of his heavy hand. Clarke yelps a little, feeling the external pressure trap a spot against his cock along the front wall of her cunt.

“Relax. Let me take you where you need to go.” His voice soothes her and Clarke finds herself melting against the mattress and around him, allowing the raw sensations to stake their claim on her body completely.

The position doesn't allow for much room to thrust in and out so Bellamy rocks against her, his cock seated deep, the weight of his hand on her low belly significantly increasing her pleasure. She’s had clitoral orgasms. She loves G-spot stimulation and has even managed to squirt on occasion, both alone and with a partner. But this feels altogether different.

He is so deep, touching a place within her she never knew she could find so pleasurable. Rocking insistently against that spot, the head of his cock strums her nerves, building her need higher and higher. She feels the orgasm building but it’s unlike anything she’s ever experienced. It’s not a steep incline, it’s not linear, it’s deeper, coming from the middle of her pelvis and spreading throughout her body. If there’s a pinnacle to reach, she can’t anticipate when she’ll get there. This kind of pleasure has no finite end on sight.

“I’m gonna - Bellamy - I - ”

She never finishes her broken sentence. The orgasm comes, but it’s not a wave, it doesn’t violently crash through her. It’s not an explosion, she doesn’t feel like screaming her lungs out in appreciation. The best way she can describe it is like a hum and tingle on a cellular level, a molecular rearrangement of everything she is and knew before to be truth and an elevation of her spirit. She soars like one can do only in dreams, as if she’s the only fixed point in the universe and everything moves around her.

Faintly, she hears Bellamy groan and feels him hold still within her. If she’s the fixed point in her climatic universe, then his rigid cock is her axis and she clenches hard around it. She feels him twitch and swell inside her and she knows it, he is coming too. His taste is still present in her mouth, tart and hearty, she can feel friction burns along her cleavage from his cock and now deep within, she knows what it’s like to be full of him.

The orgasm courses through her in a continuous flow. How long the climax lasts, Clarke doesn’t know exactly. Time ceases to have meaning, so she measures the passing of it by the changes in Bellamy’s body. His heartbeat, jumping erratically against her skin everywhere they touch at first and then gradually steading. His muscles slackening as he gathers her close. His harsh breath evening out and fanning against her sticky neck.

Her mind is blank otherwise. The orgasm ebbs away slowly, again, unlike any other she’s ever experienced. However long it passes until she’s lucid again, it’s enough for the thin sheen of sweat covering her limbs to cool considerably, causing goosebumps to erupt across her skin. Bellamy’s warmth is much appreciated and she burrows closer, languidly stretching against him. She feels like those mornings when she doesn’t set her alarm and wakes up flooded by natural morning light, limbs pleasantly heavy and rejuvenated. Energetic, but in a quiet, unhurried way.

She blinks slowly and Bellamy’s face comes into focus. Her fingers trace the placid smile on his lips and he chases them with a kiss.

“What was that?” Her voice is a hoarse whisper.

He nibbles on the pads of her fingers. “What do you mean?”

Clarke shakes her head. “That last orgasm was… unique. I’m not sure it even was one, it lasted so long. But I’ve have multiple orgasms in the past,” her brown knits. “This felt different.”

To his credit, Bellamy at least tries to keep the smug satisfaction present in his grin to a minimum. “Ever heard of cervical orgasms?”

She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves at his chest. “Be serious. Those take a lot of practice.”

He nods. “Which I’ve had.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Clarke points out. “It’s my cervix, mister.”

Bellamy laughs, a low, rolling sound coming from deep in his chest. He leans down and presses his lips against hers. Lips stretched with happiness, she smiles into the kiss.

“But you were relaxed, had several previous orgasms,” he remarks, punctuating each point with a kiss. “I believe your exact words were ‘sufficiently warmed up’. I just knew how to take you there.”

Clarke sighs and loops her arms around his neck. “I concede to your vast skills, then.”

Bellamy smirks. “You won’t regret it.”

“I feel a little dumb,” Clarke blurts out with a wry grin.

He arches an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

She shrugs. “If I hadn’t been so stubborn that night we would’ve met right then.”

Bellamy looks at her. “Why didn’t you want to?”

Clarke thinks about it for a second, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts and emotions during that night. The answers is simple. “I was scared. Scared I would like it, scared I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to share that with anyone. I wanted to figure it out on my own.” Clarke swallows, trying to ease the sudden tightness there. “Sorry I made us waste so much time.”

Bellamy snorts and brushes a kiss on her forehead. “You didn’t. I wouldn’t change the way things happened between us. Any of it.”

**\- Then -**

**November - 2nd Week**

Friend is not exactly the word Bellamy would use to describe Marcus Kane. He was more of a fatherly figure while he was growing up. His family was poor and he and his sister spent most of their afternoons at the youth center run by Mrs. V, Kane’s mother. They were a constant presence in their lives, always encouraging them. When Bellamy turned eighteen it was Kane who suggested he enlist and pulled a considerable amount of strings to get him into the exclusive sharp-shooter Marine program. And while he was overseas he knew Octavia had people looking out for her.

The physical changes in the man have been subtle but impressive over the years. He’s seen recent pictures of him, but it’s still a shock when Bellamy sees him in his office for the first time in years. The clean shaven, hair gel enthusiast Marcus Kane has been replaced with a wilder, hairier version of him, which Bellamy has to admit removes a great deal of the intimidating factor that instilled a healthy dose of respectful fear on all the teens that frequented Mrs. V’s programs.

When the secretary tells him to go right in, he finds Kane sitting behind his desk, forearms planted on the surface of his gleaming mahogany desk and frowning down at a tablet while a blonde woman talks animatedly beside him.

The blonde notices him first and stops talking mid sentence. Bellamy knocks softly on the open door to get the man’s attention. Kane’s head jerks up and he grins when he sees him. “Bellamy!”

He goes around the desk as Bellamy fully enters the office. He holds out his hand but Kane snorts and throws his arms around him.

“Look at you! How many years has it been?”

“Three, I think. Since Octavia’s college graduation”

“Where are my manners?” Kane says good-naturedly. “This is my step-daughter and media manager, Clarke Griffin. Clarke this is Special Agent Bellamy Blake. He and his sister used to attend my mother’s after school programs.”

She smiles radiantly and holds out her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Bellamy takes her small hand in his, a flicker of static igniting where they touch. Her eyes widen. She felt it too.

“Clarke is the reason I’m standing here,” Kane says jovially. “I wouldn’t have won the election without her.”

“With that beard, I don’t doubt it,” Bellamy says dryly and Clarke laughs prettily, eyes glittering with mirth.

“I had my work cut out for me,” she agrees cheekily. “Once we stopped fighting the messiah memes and embraced them the tide turned in our favor.”

“Nonsense. The beard makes me look more approachable. Your mother told me so,” Kane argues without heat.

“Our unofficial campaign slogan was ‘have you accepted Marcus Kane as your savior,” Clarke deadpans.

Bellamy tries to discreetly hide his laughter but fails horribly.

Kane shakes his head. “Mock me all you want. The beard is staying.”

“So you work for the Bureau?” Clarke asks Bellamy before the silence stretches too long.

He nods. “I do. Counterintelligence.”

“Bellamy was a Marine before he joined the Bureau,” Kane adds, pride shining in his eyes. “His superiors were all impressed by him. I met Major Pike recently,” he tells Bellamy. “He said you were the best sniper he’d ever seen and that it was a shame you couldn’t continue on the corps.” He turns to Clarke. “Bellamy’s mom passed away a few months before he finished his second tour,” he supplies. “He came back as soon as he was able to take care of his teenage sister. How is Octavia, by the way?”

“Tearing through grad school and on tattoo number seven,” Bellamy informs him.  

Kane’s secretary knocks on the door. “You have a very urgent call. It’s a matter of grave urgency that will need your attention the rest of the afternoon,” she recites tonelessly. “Line two.”

He nods soberly. “I better get that. I’m so sorry, Bellamy, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to have lunch with you” he apologizes to him, feelingly. “And you had to come all this way… Unless…” Kane looks at Clarke and his eyes widen comically as if he’s looking at the answer to all his prayers. “You don’t have plans for lunch, don’t you Clarke?”

She just blinks at him, unimpressed. “I don’t.”

Kane claps triumphant. “It’s settled then. I made reservations. Harper will text you the information.”

Bellamy tries very hard not laugh but Kane’s theatrics are really fucking transparent. He shares an amused look with Clarke who just rolls her eyes and shakes her head with resignation.

“Don’t you have an urgent phone call to get to?” Clarke reminds Kane.

A beat of silence. Then, he replies smoothly. “Yes of course.” He picks up the receiver and brings it to his ear. “Hello. Yes this is him. Uh-huh. Interesting. Continue.”

Bellamy follows Clarke out of the office while Kane makes noises as he pretends to listen to someone on the other end of the line.

“It’s good to know some politicians are shitty liars,” Bellamy says.

Clarke snorts a little laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming. I’ve never seen a better executed set up in my life. ”

“Right?” Bellamy agrees. They fall silent. “Uh, listen. You don’t have to have lunch with me if you don’t want to. We were kind of cornered back there,” he says tilting his head in the direction of Marcus’ office. They can still hear him fake-talking on the phone through the open door as he avidly watches them. The effect is ruined when the phone actually rings.

Harper discreetly cackles from her desk.

Purposely ignoring them, Clarke bites her lip. “I actually do want to. Unless you’re seeing someone and it’s weird which I completely understand-”

“No. There’s no one.”

In the distance he hears Kane curse lowly as he randomly hits buttons trying to connect the call. Offering no assistance whatsoever, Harper produces a nail file from a drawer and begins to touch up her manicure.

Clarke smiles and he finds himself grinning back at her. “Okay then. I just need to get my purse and we can get going.”

He offers her his arm on their way to the elevator. He can’t remember the last time something felt so right as Clarke’s dainty hand curling on the inside of his elbow like it belongs there.


End file.
